


The Things We Build

by BinaBina



Series: Demolition [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dissociation, Established Relationship, Established kbnz, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Multi, Off-screen Sexual Content, Polyamory, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, abuse recovery, but dont worry raihan and piers are here for him, chapter numbers with smut content: 10 and 11, cuddle piles, dragon!Raihan, emotions over mundane things bc the mundane was always out of reach until now, ex-prince!leon, ex-prince!piers, rose really messed leon up lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 162,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24116782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BinaBina/pseuds/BinaBina
Summary: After turning his back on his father and king, Leon learns how to live with people who truly care about him, not as a prince, not as a champion, but purely as himself.Immediately follows the events of Fortune Favors.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan, Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers, Dande | Leon/Nezu | Piers, Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers
Series: Demolition [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738906
Comments: 386
Kudos: 316





	1. Establishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! This kicks off part 2 of the Demolition series. If you haven't read the previous installation (Fortune Favors), I recommend doing so, but in case you don't feel like reading 20k and still wanna dive into this one, here's a dehydratingly dry recap:
> 
> Leon, adoptive prince and champion of the kingdom of Rhondeland, set out on a quest to find and slay a dragon in order to impress his father, King Rose, so he could barter for an increase in freedom in his restrictive, over-monitored life. Raihan and Piers are living happily together by themselves, but when someone comes intruding, it's Raihan's job to fly out and take care of the problem. Raihan and Leon nearly get into a battle to the death, but, much to Leon's confusion, the dragon refuses to fight. After begging the beast to hear him out, Leon explains his situation and Raihan suddenly decides to take Leon home and introduce him to Piers. Piers heavily empathizes with Leon thanks to the situation HE escaped from, and three of them have a long and candid discussion about what Leon can do to escape Rose. After a lot of encouragement, our prince finally allows himself to follow his heart and agrees to start a new life with these two interesting strangers. New roommate obtained. They fake Leon's death just in case anyone comes looking, Leon finally gets some rest under Piers' watchful eye, and THAT... is where we left off.

_I'll see you when you return, Leon... I'm sure you'll make me proud, as always. You've never failed me yet and I know you won't start failing me now. Dismissed._

Leon wakes up to unfamiliar rafters overhead.

His mind catches up to reality a second after his body does, and he sits upright in a flash, eyes darting around to take in the situation and finding no threats.

Everything's still and quiet. It's just him in an empty bedroom.

He cautiously relaxes into a more comfortable sitting position. He doesn't remember moving to this room. All he remembers is...

_"Lay down if you'd like. He won't mind."_

_"Shall we get to know each other, roomie?"_

Piers. Raihan.

This is their home.

Leon's in their home.

He doesn't remember laying down in this particular bed, though. He laid down in the bed up in the tower, and was chatting with the other human about nonsense things he can't recall, and Piers told him to relax and rest, and he must have fallen asleep up there. How rude of him to pass out in someone else's bed, that's embarrassing...

Another brief memory fills in for him.

_"We have another bed Leon can use. Let him have it."_

Raihan's old bed. Given the size of this thing, it makes sense... It's just as big as the one in the tower. Raihan must have carried him here after he returned from his mission of fabricating remains out of Leon's armor.

As a knight, that thought is even more embarrassing than falling asleep where he shouldn't. Being picked up and carried by a monster without sensing it and waking up right away. He sighs and pushes a hand into his hair to stave off the guilt creeping up. It's not fair to call Raihan that anymore. He might be a dragon, but he's no enemy. He's no monster.

Of course he didn't wake up when there was zero bloodlust or intent to harm directed towards him. He needs to stop thinking that Raihan's a threat by default. He's not. Leon's already seen the proof that dragons have the capacity to care and be selfless.

Rhondeland's royal research department would probably scoff and laugh him out of their offices if he tried telling him everything he learned. Raihan might be a sample size of one, but he's still blatant evidence that everything they know about dragons—and by extension, other beasts—is shallow at best, completely wrong at worst.

If there's one thing that's clear, it's that he, and a lot of other people, have a lot they need to relearn about the world.

For now, Leon can start with learning about the tiny one he's in right now. Unfamiliar bedroom, unfamiliar house, unfamiliar land.

He slips out from under the heavy blanket. It's quite a trip, given how large the bed is. His feet touch the floor and he stands, and after a moment of hesitation, he turns and remakes the bed as best he can, brushing off the phantom scold of _leave it to the servants, boy, that's what they're here for._

Now that he's free from the palace and all its stiff, empty formalities and hierarchies, he'll make the bed as much as he wants. No more standing idle while other people manage his life for him.

...He could do with some practice, though. These sheets aren't quite square. At least the blanket's so thick it's impossible to wrinkle. He'd love to spend more time on this to get it perfect, but... there's more pressing things at hand. Like figuring out where he is, and finding where Piers and Raihan are.

With a final fluff of the pillow and a satisfied nod, he turns and promptly halts.

Next to a basin of water and a wooden comb, his sword-in-scabbard rests on a small table across the room.

One of them must have brought the sword down along with his unconscious self. Something tells him it was Raihan. The dragon was the one who let him hang onto his sword in the first place, instead of taking it along with all his armor to wreck and turn into his fabricated remains.

He drifts to it, drawn to its familiarity in the midst of all the unknown.

Before he can touch it, something creaks outside the room and his hand jerks back to himself.

Must be the house settling...

Leon swallows and directs his attention to the basin and comb. The water is cold and feels fresh. The comb must belong to Piers. Leon left his own brush at the...

At the village. Along with all his other belongings that he packed for his quest.

Nothing to do about it for now. He'll face things one at a time, and the first thing on the list is washing his face and fixing his hair from the mess sleep always makes of it.

He feels much more refreshed after that. Nothing like a splash of cold water to reset the mind for the day.

Now that he's done everything he could in this room, the partially opened door draws his attention. He's glad it was left open as he slept; if it was closed he'd have assumed he was locked in. He quietly steps over to it and touches the lacquered wooden handle. It's such a generic item, but the delicate carving and the gloss over the wood raises several questions.

He pulls the door open. It's dense, good-quality wood, and unlike the door into the cottage and the door up to the tower, the hinges don't creak.

There's no way the dragon and prince built this themselves. Not unless either of them are master carpenters and woodworkers. Or stonemasons, with the size of the attached tower. Not to mention, all this furniture... It's nothing like the lavish trappings of the Rhondeland royal palace, but definitely not amateur craft.

Curiosity wells in his mind and overwrites any unease. No harm in exploring a little, if the house is open to him...

Before he can step out of the room, the sword pulls him to glance over his shoulder. It would only take a second to fasten it to himself... Leon worries at his lip, lets go of the door, and swiftly steps out of the room without a backwards look.

He finds that he's on the ground floor of the one-story dwelling attached to the tower. He didn't get to look around much when he first passed through it to reach said tower. If he had stopped to look, he'd have noticed how lived-in it is.

He walks as quietly as he can, not wanting to disturb the place he's exploring even though yesterday's events made clear that Leon's as much a resident here as the other two men. This house just doesn't feel like he can call it his yet. He's a stranger to it. Guest-status, at most.

One thing he notices about the place is that there are books everywhere. On the small table near the quaint kitchen, on the sill of the window letting sunlight into the main room, stacked on each other on another table in said main room. They're of all sizes and colors and thicknesses, and despite how haphazardly they're spread throughout the cottage, they were clearly put down with care. None of them hang over any edges, and the occasional stack of them is neatly squared.

Leon finds an ajar door on the far end of the cottage and peeks into it.

It's a study of sorts. And it's filled to the brim with strange artifacts. Shelves spilling over with dusty jars and strange glassware. Instruments for measuring goddess-knows-what. And more books. So many more books, with strange symbols on the covers and spines of the few that are marked to begin with. A few are hard to focus on, his gaze slipping away like water down a feather. He's starting to get a familiar headache looking at the shelves, so he grants himself relief by looking at the rest of the cramped room.

The walls are painted a stark black, with diagrams painted in silver that Leon can't recognize. He can make out a few familiar shapes... The one on the far wall looks like some sort of grid chart, with only half the squares filled in with symbology he doesn't—oh, that's the one for 'iron,' isn't it? And... 'copper?' Some sort of alchemical...

"We kept a lot of things from this place's previous owner."

Leon jumps at the deep voice right behind him. He whirls around and nearly takes the skin off his nose against the draconic chest in his face.

"Whoa, easy there." The figure takes a step back and Leon tips his head back, meeting the gaze of a very-amused Raihan.

His first instinct is to jump back, but the laid-back posture of the man in front of him gives him enough self-control to stay in place. Raihan's nothing to be cautious of, not anymore.

"You sleep okay, knight? My bed isn't as comfortable as the one upstairs, but it probably beats wherever you've been camping around."

He finds himself relaxing in the face of such a casual topic. "I slept well. Thank you. Were you were the one who moved me?"

"Sure was. You were out cold when I got back." Raihan's pleasant neutrality spreads into a smile that shows a little teeth. "I wouldn't have disturbed you, but Piers asked me to take you downstairs so you could wake up in a more normal-looking bedroom. He's more thoughtful than I am."

He tentatively returns the smile. "I appreciate it. I think it did help. Thanks for bringing my sword, too. I know I don't have any reason to carry it around here, but..."

"Hey, what's a knight without his sword? I'm not about to take your weapon away from you. Consider it a show of trust." Raihan lifts his clawed hands in a brief peace gesture. "I'm surprised you didn't put it back on after you woke up."

Leon almost moves his hand to his hip despite there being nothing there. He wasn't expecting it either, that he could leave it behind in that room. Something about that rubs him the wrong way, but he does his best to brush it off.

"What was it you said about this place's previous owner?"

"Oh, that! Yeah, Piers and I found this place totally abandoned. Looked like the owner left in a big hurry. Piers didn't want to travel through wintertime, so this was the perfect place to move in and prep through the fall and all that. I staked my claim on the surrounding land to make it safer, and that was that. Winter's over now, but... we're used to this place. Piers and I both like living here."

Raihan spreads his arms to refer to not just the house they're standing in, but the land surrounding them as well.

"The house used to belong to some kind of wizard who loved to hoard things. There was weird shit all over the place. We threw a ton of garbage out that was either useless or so cursed that not even I could figure out how to disenchant it. Everything in that room there," Raihan nods over Leon's shoulder, "is stuff Piers thought was notable enough to keep or too dangerous to dump. I forget which applies to which. He could tell you if you're curious."

Dangerous? Some of those items did look pretty suspicious. It's good that they were able to—

"Wait, you can undo curses?"

It takes teams of human mages days or even weeks, sometimes months, to unravel what someone else left on an object. It's a delicate procedure. Advanced magic.

Raihan shrugs. "All you need is a good eye and patience. And steady hands. They're like puzzles, it's kind of fun." He pauses to consider something. "Sharp nails help too."

The casual way Raihan talks about it puts into perspective the differences between them, beyond the physical.

The 'good eye' bit is the most standout. As far as humans go, Leon's pretty sensitive to magic, but even he can't see it unconditionally. Raihan must see the whole world in a way no human has before.

"Any other questions about the house or myself? I'm more than happy to answer anything you're curious about. Especially if you're curious about me."

Raihan has no idea how many questions he has. He wants to learn everything there is to know, both about this house and about the people within it. But he doesn't want to take time away from them by bombarding them with his curiosity, and this morning is only one of what's meant to be many, so he'll do his best to pace himself on his discoveries.

There is one thing, though...

"All these books... Did they belong to the previous owner too?" He gestures behind Raihan at the open living space and all the miscellaneous reading material strewn throughout.

"You ask about the books of all things?" Raihan rubs his chin. "A lot of them were already here, yeah. But the majority are Piers'. He loves, _loves_ reading, so whenever I have an opportunity to find new books for him, I bring them back with me."

It's tempting to ask for details on how Raihan manages that when the nearest village is terrified of him, but Leon's already drawn his line on how curious he'll allow himself to be for now. He'll stick to the essentials from now on.

"About Piers..." Leon rubs the back of his neck and averts his eyes. "Is he up?"

"Hm... Yeah, he's always up by this time. But you'll have to wait a while before you see him. He's got a morning routine that's hard to distract him out of. Believe me, I've tried," Raihan dramatically sighs.

The pout on Raihan's face is hard to not find amusing, but he manages to keep a straight face, just in case Raihan thinks he's being made fun of. The last thing he wants is to upset his hosts. _Housemates_ , he dares to self-correct.

"That's okay, I can wait. No rush. I'll try and get used to your schedules so I don't get in your way."

Raihan hums and observes him. Leon's no stranger to being inspected where he stands, but there's something to be said about being stared down at by someone so inhumanly tall, with eyes so piercing, like he's some kind of mystery.

"Sure. Like you said. No rush."

It's impossible to tell what Raihan's referring to exactly. Waiting for Piers, or Leon adjusting to their schedules? Both, maybe...? Deciphering hidden meanings was never a talent of his. It annoyed Rose to no end, having to speak literally to his son instead of dressing his language up in double or triple meanings like he does around political peers.

"In the meantime, I need to fix the tear you made in my border. You should come with me."

Little room for argument. Not that Leon has any.

He is apprehensive, though, because he's been in enough "why don't you walk with me" situations with his king to know that it's a flag for an incoming deep conversation. Not to say that Raihan will do anything Rose does—they have the most disparate personalities imaginable—but he can't shake the apprehension that he's about to be subjected to some sort of lecture or lesson. It's not his place to avoid it, whatever it might be.

"Of course I'll accompany you." His hand drifts to his empty hip. As soon as he realizes what he's doing, he drops his hand and rubs his palm against his thigh. He needs to forget about the sword. He has no reason to carry it around in front of the person he pointed it at yesterday.

Raihan tilts his head and his lips tug to the side knowingly.

"Don't worry. My—Piers' and I's territory... wait, 'our...?'" The dragon scratches his cheek and shrugs off his trail of thought. "This place is safe enough for humans to wander around defenseless as long as they have common sense. Besides, you'll be with me. I'm way better than any weapon you could carry."

Those justifications are enough for him to ignore the lightness at his side. Of course nothing's more dangerous here than Raihan. It makes sense that he'd make the land safe enough for Piers to walk wherever he pleases without worry. If there is any trouble, a dragon should be more than enough of a solution.

And it's just one walk.

"Alright. Lead the way."

\- - -

Twenty minutes have passed and not a word has been spoken. They're far enough away from the tower that if Raihan wanted to say anything out of Piers' earshot, he could start any time now.

The cloud of apprehension clinging to his shoulders only thickens the longer they go without a word. He's waiting for Raihan to start spinning up a speech or asking Leon if he knows why he asked him to come here, but... nothing. 

Whenever he feels able, he steals glances at his strolling companion. Raihan looks as casual as can be, handsome head tipped up to observe the cloud-spotted sky, large body light-footed and not making any more sound through the tall grass than Leon is.

Since the dragon doesn't seem keen on saying anything (yet?), Leon gingerly observes their surroundings. He should get familiar with it, if he's going to—since he _will_ be living here.

(It's surreal to think of this place as a new home.)

The meadow is vast, flowering, and blankets several hills. The edge of the forest in the distance is bright with the freshness of spring growth, the gateway to their destination. The dwelling they left behind seems to be in the middle of the meadow as well as the center of the territory, implying that the area is, overall, massive. And Raihan controls all of it. The dragon's always implied that he's incredibly powerful, and acts the part too, but it hasn't really sunk in yet, what sort of creature he is.

All he really knows is that Raihan wasn't what he expected out of a dragon—which isn't saying much, given that his expectations were entirely misguided—and also that Raihan really... cares, about Piers.

His mind hesitates to use the L-word. It's not like there'd be any consequence or logical contradiction to using the L-word, but admitting that a monster (he cringes a little using that word, now), could _that_ a human, is just...

It's just not something he ever considered. Do dragons have the same standards of attraction that humans do...? The same concepts of commitment, the same values of what's important in a healthy, fulfilling relationship? Raihan's displayed nothing but care and affection for Piers, and vice versa, so he has no reason to doubt or question what they have. Raihan and Piers chose each other, and that's all that matters.

It doesn't stop him from being curious, though. He's curious about many things, so many things, but details about the how, why, and when regarding this unconventional relationship definitely rank at the top of the 'Things Leon Would Love To Know' list.

One of the ways he justifies his curiosity of their relationship is his aversion to making either of them uncomfortable with his lack of understanding. Saying the wrong thing by accident, or assuming something insensitive, is far too likely with him. Leon knows full well that he's bad at picking up the right cues and clues from people trying to be subtle, and even worse at delivering them. Plenty of his tutors have bemoaned that about him, his lack of subtlety.

"Something on your mind, knight?"

He blinks and finds himself already within the edge of the forest. "Sorry?"

"Your face. It's telling me you have something on your mind."

Leon schools his expression and internally berates himself for letting his guard down.

At least Raihan's finally going to say whatever it is he brought Leon out here to say.

"Wow, you're even doing the thing Piers does whenever I ask him what's wrong. Is that a human thing, or what?"

That doesn't sound like the start of a lecture. Leon steps over a fallen branch, mindful of the patch of flowers trying to grow underfoot.

"Is what a human thing?"

Raihan ducks beneath another low branch, taking on a new posture better for maneuvering through the forest—leaning forward, tail out behind him for balance, wings nearly parallel with the ground. The light filtering through the leaves dapples over his scales and dark skin, casting even more dimension to his impressive back muscles.

"Hiding what you feel like that. That's not healthy, you know."

And there's the reprimand. It feels off, though. If Raihan's drawing this out for some reason, he doesn't have to.

"Isn't there something you want to tell me?" he blurts.

Raihan hums in thought and uses a wing to hold a low branch up out of the way to walk under. "Right now in particular? Nah, not really. Why?"

"You asked me to walk out here with you. Alone. It's the perfect opportunity to tell me something in private..."

The following silence churns unease in his gut like sediment clouding a riverbed. Here it comes. Whatever 'it' might be, he's ready. He's taken countless lectures from Rose, he can take one from Raihan, too.

"Guess I could if I wanted to, huh? Looks to me like you've got more to say than I do. If you're looking for a conversation, why don't you start one?"

He blinks in surprise. Raihan clears a large fallen tree and Leon rushes to vault over it himself.

"Me?"

"Who else? You're allowed to talk to me about stuff, you know. I know Piers would say the same. Chat us up anytime, ask us questions anytime. You live with us now, that means you can talk to us. Speak your mind."

No lecture? He was mistaken about Raihan's motivations for bringing him out here... His shoulders lighten and he notices for the first time how pretty the forest is around them, in the light of the morning. If Raihan really doesn't have a spiel for him, and it's really okay to ask questions...

"...Is it okay if I ask about you and Piers?"

"Sure, ask away. We're the two most interesting things in this territory, after all. Ah, sorry. Among the three most interesting things in this territory, now that you're here."

"No, I mean... you _and_ Piers. As a unit," he struggles to phrase. "As one thing."

Raihan perks up and picks up the pace. "Oh, our relationship? Of course you can ask about that. Fire away, knight, what'cha wanna know? Nothing's off limits."

That enthusiasm is hard to resist. "In that case..." He jogs to catch up until he's at the dragon's flank. "How exactly do you feel about Piers, if it's okay to ask?"

A rich laugh startles a few birds out of the nearby trees. "That almost sounds like you're trying to gauge if he's single."

His heart rate skyrockets. "I- I just want to know more about the people who helped me. That's all."

He doesn't want to get any more defensive than that, because that would make him look suspicious. Which he isn't! It shouldn't matter to him what Piers' relationship status is. Piers is taken anyways. By the man in front of him.

"Relax, I'm just messing with you. I know you know he's anything but single."

The back of Leon's neck prickles as they approach the edge of the territory, both in response to the magical border and in anticipation of the answer Raihan will give. An arm blocks his path forward, and the dragon continues to the invisible boundary alone.

Raihan pinpoints a particular spot and hunches over, inspecting what looks to Leon like a patch of empty air. He knows it's not empty, though. He can feel it, looming invisibly.

"Let's see, how _do_ I feel about Piers... I'm a little disappointed you couldn't tell already. I never once hid my feelings about him." Raihan straightens up and carves his hands through the air, and the electric buzz of magic prickles all over Leon's skin. If he strains his eyes he can almost see the threads of it glittering like fine glass dust between Raihan's fingers.

"Obviously, I love him. Piers is the greatest thing to happen to me." Raihan brings his hands together, fingers splayed and laced, and pulls them apart to double up on the magic strung between his hands. "He's the treasure of my heart, my life partner, and if there was ever a circumstance in which I had to die, I'd want it to be as I'm protecting him from whatever seeks to harm him."

Leon can't find the room to think of a response. He stands there, stunned and speechless at the pure devotion, and can only watch as the dragon unspools more and more power and the air gets more and more pressurized.

"Piers is everything I could wish for. He's mine, and I'm his just as much. We might not have a traditional relationship by either of our species' standards, but I don't care and neither does he. All I care about is knowing he loves me back, and it's something I'm able to rediscover every single day. And whenever I succeed in making him smile... I'm the happiest dragon alive."

With dense threads of magic stretched between his hands, Raihan sets to work, weaving the new material into the tear Leon made. It's mesmerizing to watch; Raihan moves with the confidence and grace of a master, not wasting a single motion, arm and back muscles shifting without pause as he effortlessly repairs what Leon destroyed.

_Not everything is so easily fixed, is it? Prince of Rhondeland, you wanted this beast's head._

Leon's throat tightens. So does his chest, squeezed by the horror hindsight provides and amplified by the sight before him. Raihan, fixing the damage he did. Raihan, who loves his partner dearly. Who was the first to decide to open his home to a stranger. The first one to give Leon a chance.

And the prince tried to kill him without ever knowing what he was about to destroy.

He staggers back a step and some of the pressure on his mind and body eases, but the extra distance from the active magic does nothing to ease the pressure on his heart.

He almost came between them yesterday in the worst way possible. There may not be any enmity between the three of them now, but yesterday, he came so close to taking a beautiful life and leaving his love heartbroken and alone.

Piers would have _hated_ him.

That aches anew, a dagger of realization slipping up through his ribs to scrape his heart. He not only wanted to use Raihan, he wanted to use Piers too.

_Look father, I not only eliminated the most dangerous monster a human can encounter, I also rescued his prisoner. That's bonus points, isn't it?_

After several minutes that felt like no time at all, the hole is reduced to nothing and the final stitch is in place. Raihan snaps the final thread with a yank Leon can feel in his teeth, and takes a step back to get a better look at the handiwork only he can see.

"There... I should thank you for making such a neat entrance. Normally when people come barging through they leave this thing in tatters—"

"I'm sorry."

His heart feels restricted, like it can't beat to its fullest without puncturing against something.

"Hm...?" Raihan's running a claw over something Leon can't see, plucking at an invisible thread that inaudibly twangs and sets Leon shuddering regardless. "For what?"

"For yesterday." He shivers and keeps a tense eye on Raihan's back as the confessions keep coming. "I didn't know what I'd be ruining. That I'd be killing a relationship too." He takes an unneeded breath to steady his voice. "I didn't know, and I'm sorry."

Raihan doesn't turn around. He stands there, tall and statuesque until the end of his whiplike tail flicks and takes the heads off several plants that happened to be in the way.

"I could say the same thing back at you, knight." His voice is resonant even when aimed away. "I could apologize for almost slaughtering you. I didn't know the kind of life I would be ending, either. But I'm not going to apologize. You know why?"

Leon tries to loosen the guilt constricting his throat, but it only winds tighter around his whole head and neck. "Why?"

Raihan turns around, and the sympathetic smile on his face throws Leon harder than a surprise tackle from behind.

"Because nothing happened. I didn't kill you, nor did I make any attempts after learning your side of things. I have nothing to apologize for and neither do you."

He sucks in a breath. "It's different, isn't it? If you killed me it would be out of self-defense. I wanted to kill you because I was selfish. It's different, you can't say I have nothing to apologize for! I- I feel terrible, and it's scary that we came so close to hurting each other, and hurting Piers too, and I..."

The undergrowth rustles and crunches, and a warm hand rests on his shoulder. He jerks his head up and startles when Raihan's face is right there in front of him. 

"Leon, hey, hey..." The hand on his shoulder drifts up to rest heavy on top of his head. He feels smaller like this, and he braces for a chastisement that never comes. "Cut yourself some slack. None of us got hurt in the end. It's all cleared up now. The only one who's upset with you is you."

The blue of Raihan's eyes will suck him in if he keeps looking. So he breaks his gaze away, and since he already revealed vulnerability by doing that, allows himself to bite his lip too. The burst of localized pain helps him concentrate on listening without being overwhelmed.

"It's not good to dwell on things that no longer affect the present. Don't let your own guilt hold you back when good things are within reach. You can be sorry, but remember, we already forgave you. We're not mad or upset with you for yesterday's events. So what I'm saying is, let it go already. Piers and I already have, so it's your turn."

He definitely doesn't deserve all this care. But like Raihan's saying, if he's already trying to be better, and they already forgave him, then... maybe it's okay to forgive himself, too. That's what Raihan's saying. If that's what they want from him, he'll try his best to make them proud.

"...Were you always this wise?" Leon weakly asks.

Raihan shows off his snaggletooth fang with a wide smile. "Nah, I just learned a lot from Piers. I'm telling you, back when we barely knew each other, he was a big mess. Took ages before his head and heart stopped being so heavy. I had to learn how to help him, and after a while he got better enough to start helping me learn how to help him too."

A knuckle taps and lightly presses against the center of his forehead. "So yeah. I'm basically an expert at this stuff now. We're ready to handle you and help you adjust. You can relax."

Easier said than done...

Leon gets a fresh view of an armored chest when Raihan straightens up and stretches. "Well, I think we've been out here long enough. That's enough heavy talk for one—"

"Wait."

Raihan pauses mid-stretch and lowers his arms. "...What is it now?"

One more. One more thing about yesterday, then he swears he'll let it drop.

"You had every right to try and rip me apart when we fought. But you randomly stopped. What happened, what changed?"

"You don't remember?" Raihan takes one look at Leon's unsteady expression, clears his throat, and recounts in a dramatized approximation of Leon's voice and battle pose. " _You're about to become my freedom, O Great and Terrible Raihan._ "

That's... a little embellished. He doesn't really sound like that, does he?

"I... don't understand."

Raihan drops the impression. "I'm getting there! It's simple. Those words are special because I said the exact same thing about myself to Piers back when we first met. I made him that exact promise, almost word for word. That I would become his freedom."

Leon's mouth falls open a little. To him, they were just words whispered to himself in the heat of the moment. To think that if he said anything different, or didn't say anything at all...

The dragon lifts his arms and laces his hands together behind his neck. "As you can see, I followed through on that promise. I freed him, and we ended up falling in love along the way. And now we've freed you too, and who knows what'll happen with you."

His mouth clacks shut. They're outside the realm of parallels now, right...? Raihan's almost making it sound like there's a love story waiting to happen to him. Which is not a _terrible_ thought—

He cuts himself off. There's no way he can give an opinion on the idea of romance, even in the privacy of his own mind, without incriminating himself in some way, by admitting to having desires one way or the other. It's best to not think about it. Love isn't for him, it's not in his fate to have. It's enough to see it in other people.

"You two seem like a happy couple." He gives the dragon a soft smile, the most he can muster for now. "It's nice to see people who love and care for each other like that. I'm happy for you."

Raihan stares him down with a slight tilt to his mouth. "...Thanks. Feels pretty good to have someone acknowledge our relationship. I'm glad you accept what we have, it's nice."

Leon doesn't protest when a warm hand tweaks some of the hair near his ears. He's too busy being flustered over praise that feels unnecessary.

"Wanna make it a shorter trip back, knight?"

He looks up and Raihan's hand stops its grooming. The dragon really likes sorting his hair out, it seems. Or maybe he has a thing for long hair. Either seems likely, given Raihan's taste in romantic partners. Leon's used to having his appearance micromanaged, so the fussy little touches don't bother him.

"What do you mean shorter? We walked a straight line here."

Raihan's wings adjust and refold. "Once we're out of the trees, I can carry you. We can fly back instead of walk."

The 'flying' bit doesn't faze Leon so much as the 'carry you' bit. He suddenly becomes aware of the entirety of Raihan's body, from the broad shoulders and tight-muscled arms, to the lean hips that lead into one of the most impressive pair of legs Leon's seen on any creature. The calves are particularly impressive, no doubt toned from countless take-offs into flight.

Raihan could easily carry him. And already has, he remembers. He just wasn't awake to remember it.

The vision of being held while tucked against a hard chest flashes in his mind and he quickly waves the thought off.

"N-No thank you. I'd rather walk, if that's okay with you."

Raihan shrugs, pulls his hand back to himself, and starts the stroll back. "Suit yourself."

\- - -

When they return to the cottage at last, there's something new in the house.

A scent. Someone was cooking while they were gone.

Raihan rumbles and nudges Leon inside to make room for himself to enter.

"Looks like somebody broke their routine... Lucky you!" A heavy hand thumps him square on the back and he stumbles towards the tiny kitchen. Specifically, the small table skirting the tiny kitchen.

There are two chairs on the same side of the table, and a single plate, steaming and fragrant, sits in the center.

"I need to head back out, knight. Got more to do. You stay here and enjoy that, I know someone'll be happy if you do."

Leon can barely nod. He can't take his eyes off the plate. The curls of steam beckon him closer and he drifts to the table as if slowly reeled in.

It's... breakfast. Homemade food, arranged neatly on the plate with a pleasing presentation.

The door to the cottage closes with a creak, and rattles in its frame as a gust of wind buffets the wood.

Leon blindly pulls out one of the chairs and eases into it, still staring at the plate.

Eggs. Sliced tomato. Salted meat. Toasted bread, _butter,_ how long has it been since he's had butter? When was the last time he even ate?

Suddenly starving, he pulls the plate towards himself and finds a fork in his hand, and half the meal vanishes before it hits him, how this got here.

The fork clinks against the ceramic plate and he takes a closer look at the food that was prepared and presented with such care. Piers... made this. Cooked for him. And if what Raihan said about routine has any merit, Piers didn't just make food, he specifically went out of his way to do so. Went to the trouble of doing this.

For him.

And then didn't stick around.

The empty chair at his side holds a tangible void that sets his side tingling.

He's no stranger to eating alone. The dinner table at the Rhondeland Palace, the one used for family when guests aren't over, was massive, and even the rare times Rose sat on the other end still felt like eating alone. The servants always bowed and left the room after setting the dishes down. No conversation, no sounds other than the clink of his own silverware. The meals might have always been delicious, but eating isn't a joy when there's nothing to focus on but the food and the silence.

He can't decide if this is the same or if it's entirely different. He's not in a cavernous dining hall where even his thoughts can echo, he's in a small bright cottage at a table for two. This meal wasn't made by a chef whose name he wasn't allowed to know, Piers made it. Piers, who wants to be friends. Who wouldn't mean anything malicious by leaving him to eat by himself. Piers the prince, who's the best person here to understand why he feels this way...

The light buzz of contradiction gnaws in his brain from the inside, and to stop it from growing any bigger he sucks in a breath and tells himself that _no, it's different._ Piers didn't leave him alone because of a difference in station or to make a specific point. Piers has a morning routine, broke it to cook, and went back to continue with his usual. That's all. Nothing deeper than that.

He should be grateful for the food and not covet anything more than what he's generously been given.

Leon carefully lifts the fork. Even with half the plate cleared, it's still easy to see that Piers made this with care. Raihan even said that it would make Piers happy if he enjoyed the meal.

He cuts into the remaining egg. The yolk streams out at its own easy pace and soaks into the toast still left on the plate.

He eats more slowly after that, making sure to savor every bite.

\- - -

It turns out that an empty stomach is a big enabler for worry. After he's eaten, he feels silly that he put so much depth of thought into what was honestly a lovely and well-prepared meal. A lifetime of strict etiquette was the only thing preventing him from swiping his finger across the plate to glean more from it.

It's easier to think about Piers, too, and the way he overthought the prince's absence and intentions. He needs to thank him for cooking. It's not like Piers is one of those people who prefers to keep tight control over when he can be interacted with by forcing Leon to wait until Piers deigns it necessary to summon him. Right?

There's one way to find out for sure. Looking for Piers and talking to him.

Leon has a hunch where the other is, and nothing's stopping him from marching up there to say good morning other than Raihan's warning about Piers being hard to distract from his morning routine. Leon doesn't intend to be a distraction. A quick hello and a compact expression of gratitude will be all. If Piers is busy, he'll respect that and leave him alone. Simple plan, simple execution, foolproof.

It doesn't take much poking around to re-find the door that opens into the base of the tower. It's not closed, which is a good sign.

His first footstep quietly rings up the hollow space, and Leon tilts his head back to follow the echo and trace the spiral staircase that hugs the stone walls.

This is his second ascent. If he's lucky, and if Piers isn't particular about who can access his private space, then this won't be the last.

His heart beats harder with every round he makes, and he tamps down the what-if worries fighting to be heard. What if he's a bother, what if Piers doesn't want to see him, what if he should have waited for Piers to call for him first.

The door at the top is open just like the door at the bottom. Okay, Leon. Just a simple hello, and an expression of gratitude for breakfast. Simple, to the point, not a bother.

He takes one step forward, hand raised to knock on the door jamb, but before he can announce his presence, he glances into the room. He freezes right as his wrist is cocked back to knock.

Piers' back is to him, half-naked, pale skin completely exposed because he's gathered all his hair over his shoulder. The morning light angled through the large window puts a glow to his porcelain frame, or maybe Leon's just imagining that part. Such smooth, flawless skin... The susurrus of brush through hair crawls up his spine and the back of his neck and seems to whisper right into his ears. He can't take his eyes off the protrusion of a bony shoulder blade as Piers pulls a brush from the nape of his neck all the way down to the feathery tips tickling his hips.

It must be so soft to the touch.

The silky whisper hushes to nothing and the spell breaks.

Leon silently backpedals and takes refuge against the wall right next to the door. The coolness of stone is a welcome sensation through the back of his shirt, which suddenly feels too warm. He rubs a hand down his face, tempted to press his cheek against the wall as well, to evict the heat trying to settle there.

Maybe he should go back downstairs. And pretend that he didn't just walk in on someone during a vulnerable moment. He was raised to be a gentleman, he should have been more careful and knocked before looking into the room, regardless of if the door was wide open. He should know better!

"Leon?"

Hearing his name delivered by that light, curious voice makes it hard to remember what was just on his mind.

It takes a moment to untangle his tongue. "...Yes?"

"You came up for a reason, didn' ye? Come on in."

No going back now. He doesn't want to keep Piers waiting, but he has to take a few seconds to compose himself. Once he's as ready as he can be, Leon sucks in a bracing breath, stands up straight and tall, and pushes away from the wall.

* * *

Piers was expecting Leon to come up eventually, but he wasn't counting on it being so soon. Did Leon not find the food waiting for him...?

He should have waited downstairs for them to get back, if only to point out breakfast before dashing back upstairs. He would have sat nearby while Leon ate, if he didn't know firsthand how awkward it is to eat when someone only stares at you with no meal in front of them. He would have put a meal in front of himself, eaten with Leon, if he had no clue know how awkward it can be just to sit in someone else's home while they feed you from their own pantry.

Best thing he could think to do was to quickly put away his own small meal first before giving Leon the privacy to eat alone.

He also admits that he was a bit nervous of whether or not Leon would like his cooking.

"Good mornin' to ye." He strolls across the room to a wardrobe, not caring about his state of half-undress.

"Good morning to you too." Leon speaks plainly, eyes straight ahead on the opposite wall. It's sweet how he's trying to not look. If Raihan were standing in that doorway he'd be staring without shame, drop a flirty comment or two, and Piers would banter back. Leon's determined to be a taciturn gentleman, it seems.

Piers partially hides behind the wardrobe door, and pulls out a loose shirt to wear.

Come to think of it, shouldn't Leon have had some kind of pack with him if he's been traveling so long? There's no way he spent his entire journey in the same set of togs. They look too well-kept for that. There should be some things in here that can fit Leon in the meantime, or maybe Piers can do a quick alteration job since they have plenty of thread, to tide Leon over until Piers can see about making him his own set of clothes. It's been a while since Piers sewed anything from scratch, but he'll happily take on a new project so Leon feels more at home here. It would be great if the prince could abandon everything he had with any royal crest embroidery on them, or however the hell Rhondeland royalty embellishes its clothing.

It's only once the shirt is pulled over his head and his hair drawn out that Leon speaks.

"You're a very good cook."

So he did find the food. And liked it... Or maybe he's just saying that to be polite.

Piers deals with the slight speeding of his heart by tucking his hair behind his ear. He of all people knows the importance of a good meal, but it's just one breakfast. A simple one, at that. Nothing to write home about. Surely it ranked on the low end of what Leon's used to eating at his old home.

"Did you come up here just to say that?"

Leon nods with the same squareness a military man does when reporting on a mission. It shouldn't be as endearing as it is.

Instead of continuing with the subject before it gets too embarrassing, Piers changes it.

"I hope you slept well. I couldn't bear to wake you once you passed out up here, so I asked Rai to move you to where you could sleep undisturbed."

Leon seems to relax the longer conversation continues. "I did sleep well. It's been a while since I've used a real bed. Or eaten a home-cooked meal, unless camp-made food counts."

Back to food again?

"...That so?"

"Yeah! Nothing I've made for myself has ever been all that tasty. I'm not the best cook, the only things I make are for the sake of filling my stomach instead of tasting good. But yours was both! I really enjoyed it!"

Apparently he didn't change the subject hard enough. But he can't redirect a second time without coming off as suspicious, so Piers resigns himself to the ordeal that is... ugh. Taking compliments. Raihan's method of overcoming his resistance to praise is to deliver it with the brashness of a battering ram, but Leon's handing his out so sweetly and innocently that Piers would feel like an arse if he tried to turn it down.

His hand drifts up to his necklace and fiddles with the locket. "Er... thanks. Just thought you could use the pick-me-up..."

"I really appreciate it." Piers busies himself with closing the wardrobe when a smile is aimed his way. "Do you ever make breakfast for Raihan? There was only one plate, and he knew it was for me, so..."

That's easy enough to answer. And a welcome distraction.

"No, he's on a different meal schedule than us lowly humans." He draws around to the writing desk, lifting the cord coiled on the corner and setting it between his teeth. He gathers his hair behind him, pushing it up and re-gathering, re-gathering, back and forth in each hand until the tension in his scalp is satisfactory.

"He prefers meat raw," he says around the cord. "'Bout once a week he'll head out and hunt fer himself. Comes back sated and carts some back for me to cook. Sweet tha' he shares." He holds his hair in place and takes the slightly-elastic cord to wrap around and tie in a tight knot.

"So yeah, Raihan normally hunts for two and I normally only cook for one. Those numbers are changing, now that you're here." He can't help a small smile.

For all his worry about Leon liking his cooking, the prospect of having someone to share real mealtimes with is thrilling. Raihan will sit at the table with him, sure, and sometimes even try what Piers makes, but it's not quite the same as sitting with someone and eating _with_ them.

"I'll help wherever I can. Hunting, cooking, anything. I won't be a burden on your household. If there's anything you need me to do, say the word and I'll do it to the best of my ability. I'm at your service, Piers."

Leon does his bow, and this time, it's rather off-putting. It's not a bow of politeness, it's a bow of pledge, and it has Piers on high guard.

Talking about burden and service like that... Didn't the knight say he intended to be friends? No, Leon only said that he thought they _could_ be friends, which is entirely different, and may have just been an expression of politeness rather than an implication of intent.

He eyes the determined expression on Leon's face after he straightens up with perfect posture. He looks completely serious about giving Piers some authority over him. As a prince, Piers is used to people offering such services to him, but coming from Leon, it's disconcerting. They're supposed to be equals, here.

Is this Leon's way of finding familiarity in his new environment? Looking for a chain of command to insert himself into?

Well, too bad for him, because he isn't going to find anyone in this house who wants power over what he does. It might take time and a lot of discomfort for Rhondeland's old champ to adjust to a lack of hierarchy, but better to nip this in the bud than play along for sake of his comfort and sow something difficult to weed up later.

Piers chooses his words carefully and delivers them with just enough weight to impress that he's serious, but not so much to make Leon self-conscious. "...While I welcome the help and fully expect you to lend a hand with housekeepin', I ain't gonna be bossin' you around. You're my housemate, not my maid. Won't be snappin' any fingers at you anytime soon."

Leon looks slightly away and rubs his hip. Odd tic...

"I just don't want to get in the way. I'll need your instruction at first to learn everything. So if it's okay with you, I'd like if you directed me until I can do things properl—"

Piers holds a hand up, palm out, and Leon silences himself so swiftly that Piers immediately regrets the motion. He awkwardly lowers his hand back to his side, cursing himself for not realizing in advance that he should avoid doing things like that. Leon's probably been cut off hundreds or thousands of times in front of Rose with that exact same gesture.

He's not Leon's master, he has no right to say _down, boy._

An apology sits on his tongue, but he doesn't let it loose. Can't think of a good way to word it without explaining things that might go too deep for a casual morning conversation. The best damage control he can think to do is to go up a level and address the surface issue, and to keep in mind never to do that again.

He steps closer until he's standing an arm's length away.

"...I get that you're a chivalrous bloke. And I appreciate your eagerness to help. The same work'll get done in the end, but how we go about it is important. I'll teach you, but not as an instructor. I'm certainly no Master Launderer," he tries to joke. It works to lighten Leon's lips out of their tense line.

They share a light smile before Piers slots the most important piece into the conversation. "I don't want to have an authority dynamic with you, Leon. I'm not comfortable with that. ...Would you be comfortable if we didn't do that?"

Leon's brow furrows like he's turning something over in his head, and Piers tries his hardest to parse what could be going on in his head to no avail.

Before long, a spark of _something_ widens Leon's eyes, and he nods with the barest slope of relief in his shoulders. "I'm sorry, I didn't think of it that way. It wasn't my intention to put you in that position."

It's tempting to reach out and pat Leon's shoulder to express camaraderie, but he holds back. They're still functionally strangers, and getting touchy too soon would be weird. Piers is used to being able to touch Raihan all he wants, but he can't do that with Leon.

"No worries, mate, I understand."

"I guess I'm not used to being taught by people who don't..."

Piers finishes the sentence for him, to spare him from speaking the nastiness. "Don't have power over you?"

A nod and dodged gaze confirms it. "I'll still do my best to learn and catch up to speed." Leon bounces back with a smile that Piers can't escape from. "Even if you're no master launderer, you certainly know more than me!"

He finds himself smiling back. He can't help it, not when this man's so bright. His smile is magnetic, pulling others like it out to match. Piers doesn't think he's smiled so much around anyone who isn't Raihan.

"I'll teach you all the secrets I know."

On that note...

"Why don't we take a jaunt downstairs? Think I've got somethin' you can help me with right now."

Watching Leon's expression open up is like watching a flower blossom at high speed. "Of course! Is Raihan going to help too? Because he left as soon as we got back."

"Nah," he chuckles as he passes Leon out the door and starts the descent. "He's got his own schedule. Bein' a dragon with a territory to maintain's more work than ye might think."

Piers can't complain. Gives him plenty of space to do his own thing, and Raihan always comes back by suppertime, without fail, unless there's some urgent matter to attend to.

"Really? He did take me to the edge of the land this morning, to fix the hole I made. Is it stuff like that?"

Now that's interesting. Raihan taking Leon out alone for a walk... It definitely wasn't dearth of conversation. He'll ask his love about it later.

"Mm, somewhat. Raihan's told me about it before, that it's a dragon's job to maintain the balance of nature in whatever region they choose to take responsibility for. This place flourishes thanks to him."

"That's fascinating... I've never heard about a dragon's role in local ecology!"

"Yeah? What sort of things have you heard about them?"

"Nothing like this. I was only taught about the ways they can be dangerous. And their weak points. How to fight them." Leon sounds a tad ashamed, but it doesn't kill his momentum one bit. "I'm so glad I have the opportunity to learn more than what Rhondeland taught me. I hope I learn a lot! Whether it's about how magical creatures work, or how to do laundry. I want to know all of it."

Gods, he's _precious._ Leon's starting to sound like a regular nerd, so excited to learn, so hyped on discovery.

He has to encourage this.

Normally Piers doesn't speak or make promises without thinking first, but Leon's enthusiasm pulls the next words out of his mouth with no hesitation whatsoever.

"Since learnin's your thing, every book in this place is yours to read if you'd like. Nothing's off-limits to you here."

Except perhaps the strange tomes with locks on them that have been banished to the storage room's bookshelf. All sorts of weird shite was left behind that Piers sensed was better to keep an eye on rather than dispose of. He might not be one whit sensitive to magic, but you'd have to be daft to not recognize cagey arcane bullshit when it's practically snarling in your face.

Piers can hear Leon's smile clear as day. "I saw so many different books downstairs! Raihan told me they're mostly all yours. You like reading?"

"Hard not to when it was the only thing keepin' me sane for years. Now I read for the pleasure of it. You could say I'm _quite_ insatiable." He smiles to himself when the rhythm of Leon's descent goes off-beat for just one step.

"I hope to get the same enjoyment out of it," Leon hesitantly replies, like he's unsure whether it's the right thing to say (which it absolutely is). "Would you mind if we ever talk about what we read? I'd love to hear what you have to say about everything."

"Like a book club? Sure." Piers finally reaches the bottom of the stairs and strides through the open door into the main cottage. He can't resist throwing another bone to see how Leon reacts. "Reading's something to do alone but I won't mind including you. Plenty of solo activities are more fun with two."

"I couldn't agree more!"

...Alright, that's a tally for Leon either being so much of a gentleman he brushes innuendoes off completely, or he's the slightest bit dense and they bounce right off him instead. Perhaps one more, to test. Something less subtle.

Piers flashes a smile over his shoulder and strolls confidently towards the kitchen. "Things do sink in better with a good discussion partner, wouldn't you say? I'll make sure our talks are thorough enough that we both walk away satisfied," he sighs. "I do love me a nice deep conversation."

"O-Of course! Yes, better knowledge retention through discussion, yes. That sounds lovely."

So he's not too dense after all.

Piers has the advantage of walking ahead, so he lets himself press his lips together and take a few steps with closed eyes and a slightly longer stride. Leon's too cute. He can't wait to be friends with this man.

The empty breakfast plate on the table brings a spot of satisfaction to him. Leon really must have enjoyed the food if he left nary a crumb behind.

He lifts it on his way into the kitchen, dodging around a braid of garlic hanging from the rafters.

Leon rushes up to his side. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do with the plate..."

"Don't worry, I'll show you. Tub's over here, with water from the well a ways from the house." He sets the ceramic into the cold water to get to later. It's just one plate and fork. "Normally Raihan carries new water in, since he's both impatient enough and strong enough to do it all in one trip."

He'll never get tired of watching Raihan carry the large thing so carefully, wings spread for balance as he walks in a careful stride, face stern with concentration, not wanting a single drop to slosh out or spill.

"Now," Piers continues, "as for you, there's things we definitely need another strong set of hands for, that I can't manage on my own and Raihan... honestly, hates doing. Not to say we're foisting terrible chores on you, I'd like to think they're not that bad. Raihan always gets to them eventually, but..."

"Don't worry! You can count on me, I'll cover any holes you two might have." Leon grins and lifts an arm to flex it. "I can handle just about anything!"

Piers' attention is torn between that smile and that bicep. One flicker of indecision later, and the bicep wins out, along with the nearby pectoral. Leon's shirt may be on the loose side, but it's not loose enough in a few particular spots. Namely, the chest and arms regions...

He blesses his own poker face. "Well you won't need to put those muscles to use today, because I need you for somethin' more delicate. Follow me outside."

\- - -

The delicate work in question was gathering sprigs of thyme from the herb garden, the first harvestable batch since Piers replanted it from indoor pots as soon as the ground warmed up enough it could survive on its own outside. Leon listened to every word out of his mouth about the herb, and Piers couldn't help but indulge that bright curiosity by trying to recall every little thing he knew about the plant.

They're back in the cottage now, sitting together at the table with a bowl between them, stripping and plucking the tiny leaves off the stems to collect. Simple, repetitive work that still requires focus, and can be refined with practice, and comes with the bonus of the comforting scent of fresh-picked herbs. Piers chose it deliberately for those reasons, and he's glad Leon took to it with interest.

Now that they've gotten started on a comforting task, next up is making comforting conversation. He's already planned a list of potential topics last night and refined them this morning.

"Say, Leon..." Piers sprinkles a few plucked leaves into the bowl. "I wanted to let you know, in case you were wondering, that... Raihan's just as glad to have you here as I am."

Across from him, Leon's leaf-picking slows.

"He might talk a big talk about all this bein' for my sake and your sake, but I know he's happy to have you around."

"...You think so?" Leon softly says. His fingers are clumsy around the stems, but he dutifully goes for every leaf to contribute to the bowl.

"I know so. Dragons are solitary creatures, but I think Raihan's far happier bein' social. I hope you can be his friend too." Piers flicks his thumb over the bowl to knock a few leaves loose from his finger. "There's things you can do with him that I can't, that I know will make him very happy."

Leon's stronger, tougher than him. Well versed in combat, no stranger to killing and being around death, causing death. In contrast, Piers can hardly watch a deer die. Having a hardier soul around, a kindred spirit, will no doubt bring some joy to the battle-hardened dragon.

"What are some of those things I can do for him?"

"Do _with_ him," Piers corrects. "He's an active bloke, could do well with someone who can keep up with his energy, unlike me." He reaches across the bowl to take a few sprigs from Leon's pile. "I know Raihan's just itchin' for a spar. Last night he was telling' me all about how skilled you were, for the brief moments you two clashed."

The dragon's eyes were glittering in the dark. _He's so fast for a human, Piers, his reflexes are incredible._

"He really wants to fight me again?" Leon looks up with wide eyes.

"Oh, absolutely. If you wanna indulge his energetic arse, by all means, challenge him to a friendly bout. You'll make his day."

He can already picture Raihan's reaction—competitive spirit blazing on the spot, wings twitching, hands flexing, tail curling and lashing around his legs. A very attractive look, he must admit. Raihan can blaze with passion near instantly, it's one of Piers' favorite qualities of his.

He glances up and catches Leon staring at him. Piers fixes his face from its sentimental smile, clears his throat, and strips another bunch of leaves clean off.

"I'd make sure it was a fair fight, don't worry about that. He won't be allowed to fly or use magic. No claws, either. I know he'll agree to those terms if it means he can get a good tussle in. Think you might even teach him a lesson or two." He chuckles to himself with a shake of his head. "What I wouldn't give to see that. But that's a bit much, I realize, so ye don' have t'—"

"I'll do it."

He pauses at the sudden surety.

"...You sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Piers can't read a mote of trepidation in Leon's honest eyes. He won't dishonor Leon by assuming the knight doesn't realize what he's getting himself into, but he can't help but question if he's sure.

"I know you were Rhondeland's Champion, mate, but it's still wrestling a whole bloody dragon. You sure you wanna do that?"

Leon looks a touch bashful, but speaks confidently. "It sounds fun! When would a warrior ever get a chance like this? It'll be good to keep me from getting rusty, and it'll help me make friends with Raihan, like you said. And, if you're there watching, then..."

Oh...?

Piers tries not to look or sound too interested. "...Then what?"

"Then I'll do my best to win."

It's very rare that Piers is at a true loss for words, but Leon's managed to blindside him with that sincere message. Something light flutters in his gut and he mumbles a cheap "That so..." in response.

Leon rubs the back of his neck, no doubt getting thyme-scent all over himself without realizing. "I always do my best to win, but... it's different when somebody's watching, if that makes sense. I think I'll do a little better knowing you're watching."

It does make sense... Piers nods, and Leon nods back, and both of them stare down at their work until the pile of sprigs is reduced to a pile of woody twigs, and the bowl is as full as it's going to get.

Great, now that there's nothing left to do with their hands, what the hell should he say? His original planned route of conversation got completely derailed. He can't even look at the other man without that chivalric line replaying in his head. Leon, doing his best to win while he's watching...

It's stupid how much it affected him. Is it because of the words themselves, or the person who said them? Some combination of the two...?

"Piers, I..."

"Yes?"

Leon licks his lips, and Piers notes how full and plush they look. "I was wanting to ask, if..."

The door to the cottage bursts open. They startle.

"Hey, you're both here!" Raihan bounds inside, heading straight for him. The grin on his face is infectious as always, and Piers finds himself standing to meet his lover, all brooding thoughts forgotten in Raihan's presence.

"Where else would I be?" he teases. He stands on his toes, meeting Raihan in the middle for a quick kiss. A hot hand brushes down his cheek and he opens his eyes, happily taking in the bright bright blue of his partner's.

"Doesn't matter, you know I'll always find you anyways." Raihan gives his face a nuzzle and he scrunches his nose.

"Ah, Raihan!" Leon's chair scrapes back across the floor. "I have a proposition for you!"

Piers ducks out from under Raihan's affections so he can throw Leon an incredulous look, because Leon doesn't understand that if he gives his challenge right this second, Raihan won't want to wait to get started. "Now, I'm sure it can wait—"

"Why don't we have a friendly spar outside?" Leon chirps.

Ah, well, he tried. Too late for the bloke now.

Piers takes a few resigned steps back, noting with no surprise that Raihan's not paying attention to him anymore. The dragon's head is turned completely towards the other man in the room, and the only motion in his large body is an incredulous curl of his tail.

"Friendly spar?" he slowly repeats. "You and me."

"Yeah!"

Large wings rustle and Raihan's hand curls into and out of a half-fist. "You wanna fight me for fun, am I hearing that right?"

"Well, it was Piers' suggestion, and I thought..." He trails off when Raihan whips around to face Piers, who already has an excuse on his lips.

Might as well go all in, now that Leon's fate is decided. Nothing to do but participate in the fun.

"Thought it'd be a fun bonding activity for you two," he says with a flick of his bangs. "You two studs feel free to have at it all you please. 'S long as there's no weapons, no magic, no blood, and I get to watch."

Raihan's grin parts to show all his teeth. "Ohh, you've got a deal, babe. When are we doing this?"

"Why don't we go right now?" Leon asks. Sweet soul doesn't know what he just did.

Raihan's large body is _radiating_ excitement. Leon's looking fairly eager himself, so Piers takes it upon himself to act the hype man and push their energy forward.

"I for one am curious if Leon can give you a run for your money, love." He gives his nails a casual inspection. "He's a champion, you know. Surely won't go down easy. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him."

It goes as expected. Raihan's energy bursts. "You're on! No magic, no weapons? You're still going down, knight!"

He grabs Leon's wrist and drags him to the door, Piers hot on their heels and unable to stop his laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Raihan and Leon have a friendly spar. Bets are open as to whose ass will get kicked.


	2. Battle and a Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody remember who they put their money on to win?

"Who are you rooting for, baby!" Raihan crows without taking his eyes off Leon. His opponent. His sparring partner. The guy who's about to get his ass kicked.

The two of them stand a fair distance apart, in a clearing a ways from the back side of the cottage.

Piers shouts back loud and clear from his vantage point atop a nearby hill. "I ain't takin' sides! But if Leon manages to wear you out I'll be right thankful!"

Hah! If anything, he's about to wear _Leon_ out. He'll show this 'champion' that there are limits to what can be beaten. It doesn't matter that he can't use magic, or that he's using this less-than-optimal bipedal body. He's got enough battle prowess he's sure to win regardless.

So it's a little disappointing that Piers isn't siding with the clear winner here. Oh well. He can still spice this up.

"Boooring! Hey, how about this?" He tears his eyes off Leon and grins over his shoulder. "Winner gets a kiss!"

Piers rolls his eyes with his whole body behind it. "You sure about that? What if Leon kicks your arse?"

No faith!

Raihan shuts his mouth and shakes Piers' cheekiness off. The prize is as good as his. It's not like he's deprived of his treasure's kisses, but there's a difference between freely taking a kiss and _earning_ one.

"Get those lips ready for me, babe! Sound us off!"

Piers lazily tosses his hand. Raihan eagerly focuses back on Leon, whose golden eyes are blazing with a new readiness to fight. Admirable that he's fearless in front of a dragon. Raihan can see why this man was champion with eyes like those. They silently roar _"I'm not here to lose,"_ and the thrill of challenge races through Raihan's veins despite his confidence in his victory. Something about facing Leon again gets his blood pumping and they haven't even started yet.

A sharp breeze cuts between them. Leon's hair tousles and spins in the wind, and Raihan suppresses the urge to walk over and pat it in place. He's gotta focus, because even if he has this in the bag, Leon deserves his seriousness. He certainly has all of Leon's.

Piers projects his voice sharp and clear. "So be it! A kiss to the winner! Now... BEGIN!"

\- - -

"..."

Raihan can't believe it.

He can't move.

Not meaningfully, that is.

He jerks and struggles, the side of his face pressed into the grass and one wing flailing uselessly to throw the person off his back. His arms are twisted behind him and locked in place by a confusing configuration of Leon's limbs, and the more he tries to break free, the more his shoulders and other joints warn him that staying still might be his best option.

He's been pinned. _By a human._

"...Are you okay?" Leon isn't even winded, which only adds to his bewilderment.

He tries once more to throw the knight off him, but he can't get a single bit of useful leverage. If this were a real fight, he could use his tail to do damage, but they agreed no weapons. All it would do is get Leon cut and bleeding, and that's the last thing he wants. Not to mention it would go against the spirit of the fight.

The fight that he lost.

He growls into the dirt and tests his shoulder's willingness to be strained.

"Oi! No use thrashin' about, love, fight's over. We have a winner." The finality in Piers' voice drains the tension from his body and he lets his head rest against the soft grass.

Leon finally loosens his strange hold, much to the relief of Raihan's joints.

He waits until the champion's taken several steps back before getting up. He dusts himself off and flexes and refolds his wings, eyeballing the human who bested him so quickly he couldn't even process what was happening until he was already on the ground.

"Guess I underestimated you, knight..."

He replays the events in his head. His confident rush, relying on speed, Leon's razor-sharp reaction and a shift into a stance he's never seen before... The knight struck like a snake and trapped him in place like one, too. He never saw it coming. A total defeat.

A strange emotion, sparking and volatile, rushes from his core to his limbs like the lightning he can command amidst storms.

That fight, was...

Getting pinned by a _human_ felt...

"Rai!" Piers' voice barely breaks into the storm of his thoughts, and neither do the fast-approaching footfalls.

Raihan's never lost like this before. It doesn't matter that they put conditions on the fight, he was still defeated effortlessly. And it feels...

"Rai?"

It feels...

"...Leon, may wanna get behind m—!"

In a flash, he has the knight's shoulders in his grip. He makes sure his hold is solid and that he has Leon's full, wide-eyed attention as he leans down close until their noses are nearly touching.

"I want a rematch. Let's do that again."

It feels _exhilarating_.

Leon bested him and exposed a massive blind spot in his ability to fight. And what that means is, this is an opportunity for him to improve himself. If they keep sparring, Leon will make him better. Stronger. More able to protect them both.

He's never felt this kind of excitement from a fight before. The drive to win isn't the only thing lighting his fire now, it's about the drive to get better with every clash, too.

Leon glances away, and that's no good. "Right now?"

"Yes! Now!" He gives Leon a little shake to get his attention back.

Piers shoves his way into the space made by his wings.

"'Scuse me, you nearly gave us a fright with all that! Thought you were gonna attack him!"

"What? Why would I do that?" He loosens his hold on Leon, who shifts his weight but doesn't back away. "Leon's not an enemy. Did you think I'd be a sore loser or something?"

On a whim, he reaches out and flicks an errant lock of purple hair into place.

Piers looks away and is clearly holding his tongue on something, but sighs and relaxes instead of speaking his original mind. "...Sorry for doubtin' you, love."

The edge of his excitement softens.

"Aw, it's alright. You've never seen me lose a one-on-one before. Don't blame you for not knowing how I'd take it." He reaches out, intending to draw Piers to him, but his treasure backs away with a bemused smile.

"Methinks you're forgettin' something."

"What's that?" He bluntly asks, and fixes another bit of Leon's hair. Seriously, he thought Piers was bad enough, but Leon's got an unruly mane of his own.

"Winner gets...?"

Leon goes stiff and takes a step back, out from under Raihan's preening hand. "Oh—No, Piers, you don't have to! It's okay, it was just a silly bet."

Oh. Right. He did put a bet in place, so it's his job to honor it even if he made it under the assumption that he'd win. He's not gonna be that much of a sore loser to deny Leon his victory kiss.

He shrugs and turns on a heel, folding his hands behind his neck and staring at the sky. "You earned it, knight. You better treat it like the high prize it is."

"Oh... Uh, alright, if you say so..."

"He did say so," Piers lightly says. "And I say so as well."

His ears prick when light footsteps approach where Leon is standing, and he strains his hearing to catch his lover's whisper over the breeze.

"It's alright, Leon, you earned it. Close your eyes."

He waits exactly five seconds before turning around. Piers and Leon are an arm's length apart, with Piers making that face he does when trying to suppress a smile into neutrality (Raihan's seen it enough times to recognize it without fail), while Leon is red as a robin's breast.

What kind of kiss was it...?

He won't betray his curiosity by asking. But when Leon turns his head and clears his throat into his hand, he rubs a knuckle against his cheek before dropping back down, and that's all the answer Raihan needs.

He relaxes into a smile.

"Ready to taste defeat this time, knight?"

"I should be asking you the same thing." Leon cracks his neck and his knuckles, grinning like he absolutely should be after winning a prize like that.

"Just so you two know, I'm not gonna referee now that I know you won't kill each other. 'M gonna get my book."

He perks up and tears his eyes away from his sparring partner. "Gonna sit and watch?"

"Gonna sit and read." With a toss of his hair, Piers strides away.

He's totally gonna come back out.

Raihan leans down to stage-whisper, gaze glued to his treasure's retreating back. And his ass. That too. "He's definitely gonna watch. Let's give him a show, why don't we?"

"Is me beating you that entertaining?" The shine of challenge in those pretty eyes chases every other thought in his head away.

"Me making a comeback will be entertaining. I won't underestimate you this time!"

"Then I'll make sure I stay one step ahead." Leon jogs back to where their first tussle was, and Raihan follows with long, eager strides.

"Better watch your back before I catch up sooner than you think! You won't take me down a second time!"

They stop at their stations and face each other, and Leon's expression soon shifts into something more... competitive. Raihan's body automatically slides into a combat-ready stance, and their eyes meet.

They don't have Piers to tell them when to start, but that's alright, because all they need is a few seconds of eye contact before they launch for round two.

\- - -

Leon proceeds to put his ass to the ground six consecutive times. Every round, he factors in what he learned from his previous failings, but Leon stays one step ahead and pulls something unexpected that throws him without fail, sometimes literally. He might be adapting to Leon's skills as fast as he can, but each resulting loss proves that his opponent is adapting to him just as rapidly, if not faster.

"One more!" He scrambles to his feet, not caring about all the dirt on his scales in favor of getting the next match started as quickly as possible. "I think I've got your moves down now!"

"Rai, give him a break." Piers calls from afar. "As much as I love seein' this, he can't go on forever."

What? But Leon seemed to be doing just fine. He hasn't slowed down or weakened at all.

Raihan gives his opponent a closer inspection. Sweat shines over Leon's tan skin, his shirt is clinging to his chest more than usual, and his bangs are stuck to his forehead. His breathing is even, but deep.

Raihan straightens out of his fight-ready posture. "...You doing okay?"

"Yeah!" Leon's airy voice betrays how winded he actually is.

His eyes might still be blazing bright, but Piers is right. He looks like he could use a break. Raihan can't expect a human to match him continuously without tiring, after all.

Leon may be an exceptional human, but he's human nonetheless.

"You look tired. Wanna call it done for now?"

The 'for now' bit is important. There's no way he's gonna let this be the last time he tastes Leon's abilities. He wants to keep sparring and sparring until he finally beats Leon at his own game. It could be tomorrow, it could be after months. The important thing is that he gets better every time.

Leon pulls his wrist across his forehead. When his arm drops, Raihan leans closer, eager for an answer. "We can call it quits after I beat you one more time. How's that?"

Piers' distant chuckle is completely overshadowed by Raihan's indignant, elated rise to the challenge. If he wins this, that means they keep on going.

\- - -

Leon seems to vanish and Raihan drops into a low crouch, sensing the presence at his right flank and leaping away before Leon can take advantage of the blind spots his wings create behind his back. He lands and lunges low and the force of it tears up the turf beneath his feet and sends grass flying. If he can just throw Leon off balance and ruin his stance, he knows he has a chance.

He revels in catching Leon off guard with an unconventional feint, but the tiny victory is short lived, because the knight reacts and counters by changing directions faster than he thought humans were capable of, and then an arm is thrust into his personal space that bends and hooks and _pulls_ —

The world whisks sideways and the fight ends with a hard thud.

"Ooh, that looked nasty. Ye all right, love?"

He grunts and gets his arms underneath him once they're released. "Just fine! Takes more than that to put a scratch on me."

He'll give himself credit for lasting way longer than all the other times before he kissed dirt.

Right now Leon sits squarely on his back, panting heavily after their last bout, and Raihan takes some pleasure in knowing he put up enough of a fight to tire the man out.

"You're really strong, Raihan," he says between deep breaths. "I've sparred with more people than I can remember, but I've never had the pleasure of sparring a dragon. Once you get some technique down I can see you giving me some real trouble!"

If that came from anybody other than him, Raihan would have taken it as an insult to his abilities. But from an honest soul like this, it doesn't feel so bad. He doesn't think Leon would be capable of making a backhanded compliment even if Piers gave him daily lessons on it.

So he takes it like the genuine praise it is.

"Oh, I'll be sure to give you trouble in the future. Once I figure out whatever style you're using, you can kiss your title goodbye."

"Style?" Leon laughs and shifts on top of him. "I had to change up everything I knew to account for your wings and tail. But I can still teach you some things if you want."

Wow. So not only did Leon kick his ass, he did it while adapting everything he knew on the fly. Leon's not just skilled, he's talented, too. Important distinction between the two. A dangerous and delightful combination when cultivated in the same person.

"Isn't it dangerous to teach your opponent your moves?" He strains to look over his shoulder and carefully arcs his tail until the tip of it dangles over Leon's head.

"Well..." Leon's eyes follow the sharp tip, and he reaches behind his neck and fluffs his heavy hair away from his neck to cool down. "We're not really opponents, right? This was just for fun."

Raihan laughs and makes a show of starting to push himself upright. Leon sways but doesn't fall. "You say that while still sitting on me? You're a cruel victor, Leon, I see how it really is."

"Ah, sorry!" Leon scrambles off, mindful not to step on his wings. "Was I heavy?"

Raihan twists and sits cross-legged and gives Leon a thorough, down-up once-over. Muscular body, heavy for a human, but not at all heavy for him.

"Nah. Well, don't go sitting on Piers, you might squash him. But as for me, I don't mind."

It felt pretty good to have someone with that much mass relaxing on top of him. He can see what Piers means now, about weight being comforting. Maybe Leon will do it again sometime. He likes the idea of getting on more physical terms with the new human. Dragons are tactile creatures for a multitude of reasons and having one more thing to indulge in never hurts.

It's special when a partner is involved, of course. He loves touching Piers because it brings him comfort, and when Piers is happy to be touched, brings a simple shared joy as well. Leon's no partner, but that doesn't matter. Raihan considers him a friend already, after all their wrestling, and hopefully Leon does too. Hard to grapple with a guy seven times in a row and not feel some level of camaraderie.

Leon holds out a hand and leans down, inserting himself into Raihan's wandering thoughts. It's rare that he ever zones out like that. Normally it's Piers' job to get lost in his own head.

He considers the hand. Then Leon's friendly face. And without a further moment of hesitation, he clasps Leon's wrist and has the same done to him. Leon dips into a low lean backwards and digs his feet into the ground, hauling Raihan up with shocking ease.

Instead of letting go once stable, he pulls Leon by the arm until their chests are nearly touching.

Maybe it's the leftover adrenaline affecting his thought processes, but for some reason Leon's messy hair doesn't bother him this close up. He's content to look at the pretty face below him, flushed from exertion, eyes sparkling even in Raihan's shadow. The only thing truly shadowing those eyes are thick eyelashes. Really thick eyelashes.

"Raihan...?"

He drops Leon's arm and finally indulges himself by patting the top of that soft head of hair. "Let's get back to Piers. I know he's been watching us this whole time, and I'm sure you've impressed him quite a bit."

He can't stop his laugh when Leon pushes his hand away and starts patting his hair into order with a self-conscious glance towards the hill. Raihan gives a jovial, full-arm wave to the endpoint of Leon's line of sight, and grins when it's returned with a reserved wave back. Piers isn't even holding his book. Good to see that he's abandoned the pretense of not paying attention to 'these two studs' doing their best down here.

A flash of appreciative gaze gets him moving without thinking. He dashes across the clearing and up the hill, wings angling to not catch the wind and slow him down, and he closes the distance in no time. He may have gotten his butt royally whooped but he can still steal a kiss from his—

"No you don't." A sharp point at his chest directs him to dig his heels in and flap his wings to come to an abrupt, windy stop. "You ain't touchin' me without washin' up first. You're filthy."

"But you're the one who encouraged us to get filthy!"

"Aye, and now I'm encouragin' you to get clean." A small smirk draws all of Raihan's attention. "You didn't win your kiss, but I'll think of a consolation prize for you later... after you've washed up."

He wants to kiss Piers just for saying that. But he's right, he should clean all this dirt off of him. It's no proper look for a dragon to walk around looking like they were thrown to the ground a half dozen times. Which he was, but still. There's no point in being a dragon if a dragon doesn't present themselves as every bit as noble and proud as their blood decrees.

Piers closes the distance and hands him a small cloth-wrapped package. He can tell by scent that it's soap, and he can tell by the subtle crease in Piers' brow that there's something he wants to say. Concern raises his guard; what could be wrong?

"...Was the kiss too much?" His treasure whispers up close, masking his secretiveness by dusting some grass off Raihan's chest.

"What, that?" He laughs under his breath. "I'm the one who started it, I'm not allowed to complain. And—" Piers tries to protest, but Raihan covers the hand on his chest with his own and gives it a gentle squeeze. "—And... I really didn't mind it. I'm glad you two are getting along."

The worry eases out of Piers' brow, and he steps back with a nod and a light smile as if their serious moment never happened. To Leon watching them from downhill, it never happened.

"Take him with you, _mo gràdh._ " The term of endearment rolls off Piers' sweet tongue. "He needs to be shown where things are around here."

\- - -

The walk to the stretch of river is quick. It would be quicker if he didn't have to match pace with someone smaller than him, but he's used to it, plus he promised Piers he'd show Leon the way.

He tosses the hard soap into the air and plays catch with it as they walk, setting a nice rhythm to their stride and throwing it higher and higher each time.

At his side, Leon plucks at his shirt with an uncomfortable twist to his mouth.

"Dunno why you're still wearing that thing." Throw, catch. "I'd have taken it off long ago if it were me." Throw... catch! "I hate damp fabric on my skin. Feels so restricting."

Going shirtless is much better, in his opinion. He'd walk around without a single thread on his body if Piers didn't insist that if he was going to be shaped like a human, he'd better uphold the minimum level of modesty and "put some fuckin' pants on." The things one does for love...

Leon considers his words and suddenly hunches as he walks, tearing the long-sleeved shirt off in one go and huffing once it's fully peeled off his sweaty skin.

Throw...

"Goddess, that's better..."

Ca—whoa!

Raihan nearly fumbles the soap, and barely registers the sigh of relief at his side, because he's too busy staring at Leon's bare chest.

Don't get him wrong. He loves Piers' body. Thinks it's one of the most beautiful things in the world. Luckily, more than one beautiful thing is allowed to exist at the same time without either detracting from the other, and Leon's bare, tanned, shining torso ranks up there with the best.

Multiple scars cross and dot his chest and stomach and arms, an impressive set of a warrior's permanent battle trophies. They don't detract from the sight at all; he quite likes the extra visual complexity they give Leon's skin. He'd love to know where some of the nastier ones came from. And those muscles, damn. He didn't think human male chests could get that full.

"Surprised you didn't rip that shirt during our fight with muscles like those."

Leon folds the soiled fabric over his arm. "Thank you...?"

Good, he took the compliment.

They reach the riverbend and Raihan only slows his pace to ditch his clothes. He happily strides into the river nude and heads for a particular spot where the water is calmer, and about hip deep on him. The coolness is pleasant against his sun-warmed scales and well-worked body.

"What are you waiting for, knight?" He turns around and beckons a slowly-undressing Leon. "I might have been the one on the ground, but you're the one who's all sweaty."

Just because he can, Raihan slaps the water's surface with a flat hand, sending a spray arcing out that hits Leon's ankles. He laughs as Leon gasps and struggles to get out of the rest of his clothes, and grants the human some privacy by turning around and busying himself with washing.

Leon joins him with a shiver lacing his breath. No cute sounds at all. He internally pouts at the lack of a gasp or whispered curse like Piers always makes when he gets into cold water.

With a breaking of the soap in two pieces, the two of them get to work shedding the sweat and grime that resulted from their wrestling. It only holds Raihan's attention for so long, though, especially once he's all but done, so he does the best thing one can do when bored in another person's presence.

Chat them up.

"Sssooo..." He brings a cupped double-handful of water to his face for a quick, final dousing. "You say you'll show me some moves, huh?"

"What?" There's a brief splash. "Oh! If you're open to it, yes! You're very strong, but I can tell you're not used to grappling trained opponents. You fight in other ways, right?"

He chuckles at the sudden enthusiasm. "That I do. I've got multiple weapons at my disposal. Take those away from me and get in my face and it seems I can meet my match." His tail pulls against the slow current and he adds after a pause, "But not just any human could best me. You're the only one I've met who can do that to me."

In combat, that is. Piers, on the other hand... His wily partner has him defenseless in more ways than one.

"You're the only one I've had to try so hard to throw. You're not just heavy, you learn very quickly. I'm sure if I taught you, you'd catch up in no time."

He barks out a laugh. "I'll get you on your back before you know it, knight. Promise you that."

And what a pleasant sight that would be. Leon, weary from battle but still with fight in his eyes, pressed to the ground by one triumphant dragon. He can't wait for the day he gets to see that.

"I'll never go easy on you, dragon, promise _you_ that."

He grins and causes a splash with his tail. "Wouldn't have it any other way. ...Ah, speaking of winning and losing, how was the kiss?"

The sounds of hand-over-skin stop, and Raihan waits for an answer that doesn't come.

"You can be honest," he prods.

The sounds start up again, slower than before, and Leon speaks again. Slower than before.

"It was... nice."

He turns around, mindful of his speed. He decides to be decent and keep his eyes above the neck since he already got his fill of looking earlier. Not that he'd mind getting another. "You sure were red for something that was only 'nice.'"

Leon's cheeks do a great reenactment of the event. "I'm just not sure what kind of details you're looking for, since he's your partner and all..."

He casually waves a hand. "Yeah, he's mine, but I know he's not going anywhere. I don't mind if he shares some kisses. It feels pretty nice to know there's someone who can appreciate them just as much as I do."

"You don't—mind?" Leon's eyes widen and he half-turns away. There's a particularly large scar on the back of his shoulder. "...Is he someone who really likes kissing?"

"I know he loves kissing me, does that count?"

"Sort of..." Leon mumbles. His mouth opens and closes. And opens again. "For me, I don't know yet."

Vulnerability is something Raihan can recognize without fail. He's not sure if it's predator instinct or genuine interest that perks his attention, but it doesn't matter to him what kind of hand raises the signal flag. He's only interested in how he follows through.

Piers always responds best to being taken completely seriously as soon as he gives off that signal of 'I'm opening up about something personal.' Leon, though... hm. Grew up in an overly stuffy and formal environment. Wasn't allowed to play around. Probably had to deal with weird, complicated human politics all the time.

Meaning... blunt it is! If it goes wrong he can always apologize and try again. Messing words up isn't the end of the world.

"What do you mean you don't know? Have you only had terrible kisses before now?"

"N-No, that's not it!" Leon rushes to explain and Raihan smiles at the small victory. "I was never allowed to have relationships, even purely intimate ones. Kissing just isn't—"

"No way! You're telling me you never laid with any of the pretty people you saved or impressed with all your championing? They must have thrown themselves at your feet, knight, look at you." He gestures at the champion's bare, wet body.

"It's true!" Leon wrings his hair out, looking embarrassed but forging ahead regardless. "I just couldn't. I had more to focus on than... than fooling around."

But was Leon okay with those restrictions, that's the question. Some people are perfectly content to leave relationships behind to pursue other things, but from what he knows about Leon, he was awfully lonely in Rhondeland. Even a bed partner would have soothed that somewhat. Too bad 'purely intimate' relationships were off... limits...

"...Hey, Leon?" He innocently asks.

Leon backs away into shallower water when he sees the look on Raihan's face. "What is it?"

"Are you a virgin?"

"I..." Leon sharply sighs and brings more water up to wash the back of his neck. "Yes."

"Cool, cool. Just wondering." No shame in that. Most dragons put off sexual relations until they meet someone they consider worthy of partnering with.

They wash in silence. Raihan finishes first and makes his way up the shore, where several large, smooth-topped rocks stand pale in the sun. He crawls up onto one and lays on his front with a content groan at the heat that soaks into his body from the stone.

His desire to get back to Piers as fast as possible has simmered down, but hasn't left his mind. He's having fun talking to Leon, and it's his duty to keep an eye on the human while he's still new around here.

The sun beats warm on his body and makes quick work of evaporating the cold water clinging to his skin. Once he's dry, he relaxes his wings and spreads them out across the rocks to let them absorb as much heat as possible. The hush of rushing water adds a nice aural contrast to the steady warmth of the sun. Taking a nap wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have Leon to watch over.

Downstream, Leon's still at work, but no longer with his body. He's wandered into a spot with a faster current and is holding his clothes in the flow. His damp hair catches the light, and when he leans down to fuss with his waterlogged clothes some more, Raihan's gaze drifts down to the barely-exposed curve of ass above the waterline. Too bad Leon's not in shallower water.

Clothes on or off, Leon's a handsome human. Cute face, soft-pretty hair, beautiful body with power and skill behind it. Eyes like gold. And a dazzling smile.

Hard to believe that no other humans made advances on him or tried to court him. Or maybe they have, but were rejected because those things were forbidden. No sex, no love, no... kisses?

Not even kisses, none at all.

He takes his time sucking a breath to push out a call from his vantage point. "Hey, Leon."

A beat passes before he's answered. "Yes?"

"That kiss Piers gave you. Was it your first?"

"...Yes, it was my first." Leon lifts the clothes from the water, turns them, and splashes them back down. "It wasn't on the lips, but I say it still counts as a real kiss."

He hums and ponders that, and relaxes back over the rock.

"Did you wish he kissed you on the lips?"

Leon pauses in rinsing his clothes and lifts them out of the water again. "I'm a little glad he didn't... Wouldn't you have been angry if he had?"

Angry? At who, Piers? Leon? It's true that in the moment, he worried over the kind of kiss Leon was getting, but in hindsight his concern feels silly. There's no way he would have been mad at either of them if Piers chose to give Leon the same kiss he'd have given Raihan.

"No, not at all." The stone scrapes pleasingly across his arms when he stretches them forward to let them hang over the edge. "Even if I would have been, you earned the right to it anyways by beating me. I accepted my loss."

Leon slogs out of the water and Raihan follows with his eyes until the human's out of sight. Water splatters onto the bank. Must be wringing out his clothes.

"But it's your partner kissing someone else, even if it was on the cheek. I thought dragons are supposed to be so... possessive."

He yawns and folds his arms under his head. "We are."

"So then why are you fine if Piers ki—if he shows affection towards me?" Leon asks a little desperately. "Shouldn't it bother you? If he's... 'yours?'"

That's right. Humans have a different sense of what it means to possess something.

To dragons, it's just as much about the item's willingness to be owned as it is about the dragon's, or anyone's, desires. You can't possess something that doesn't wish to be possessed. It simply isn't yours, not until it wants to be. Not until you've earned it.

Dragons are possessive because once something is in their possession, they'll do anything to maintain the right. Dragons are proud of the things they own because they know they've earned it. If they didn't deserve it, they wouldn't have it. To lose what one already owns is a deep shame, a personal failing, that they were unable to remain worthy of being something's guardian and protector. A dragon with nothing is a dragon worth nothing.

Raihan considers himself of a fortunate lot, because while he doesn't have much in quantity, quality more than makes up for it.

This lush territory is his because the land accepts his guardianship. His power, too, is his and nobody else's; he can command the elements he's able to because those forces see him as a worthy master and entrust their influence to him and him alone. He has the right to call himself the master of storms among dragons.

And Piers...

Piers is his because Piers chooses to be at his side. And those feelings are mutual in the best way. Piers wants Raihan just as much, and Raihan gave himself not just willingly, but passionately. They belong to each other because they made it so, and Raihan would fight to his last breath to prove himself over and over again that he's someone Piers wants to entrust himself to, forever and always.

So, a single kiss, in light of all that emotional weight? It's practically nothing at all.

He'll do his best to put it in simple terms.

"Piers is mine, you're right about that. Him giving out kisses doesn't stop that from being true. He loves me and that's what makes him mine, and he'll stay mine for as long as I'm worthy of his love and he keeps loving me. Kissing you changes nothing."

"I've never thought about it like that before... I didn't know dragons had so much more... faith? Trust, in their partners."

He wants to laugh. And he does. Just a little.

"Hah! It's more like you humans are so much more paranoid and clingy. Your hearts are such interesting things." He smiles to himself in amusement. "You think someone is yours just because you want them to be, and when they fall out of your hands, it fills you with jealousy and rage. If something is meant to be yours, then it will want to be with you. If it doesn't, then you weren't supposed to have it. Such an easy concept, but I've seen countless humans kill each other over things that don't belong to them and will never belong to them, just because they think they have a right to claim and own that doesn't exist."

It would be tragic if it weren't so pathetically foolish.

Raihan continues, as Leon provides no response. "Take your king, for example. Your king never owned you, not truly. You didn't want to be owned, simple as that. He might have had control over you, and the power to make you stay at his side, but you were never truly his. Not as long as you wanted to get away."

"..."

He tilts his head to better hear. Leon's breathing has quieted, and only the slow drip of water on grass punctuates the soundscape surrounding the man. A slightly quicker inhale tells Raihan that words are coming, and he patiently waits it out.

"I've never thought about it like that before, either." Leon pauses. "I always saw myself as belonging to Rose. I didn't think that me not wanting to belong to him could have any impact..."

"It has every impact. When you're dealing with something as abstract as the concept of ownership, personal feelings matter all the more. If you want to only belong to yourself, then it becomes true in that instant. And anyone trying to say otherwise is a fool with no right to argue. Sure, they can restrain you, force you to stay, but... you're not truly theirs unless _you_ will it."

Piers took to those concepts extremely quickly. His partner really knows how to think like a dragon, now. He remembers how difficult it was at first, traveling and living with a human who didn't understand what Raihan's kind are like. If Leon wants to be comfortable here, he's better off learning the same things.

Raihan rolls onto his side, propping his head up on a bent arm, and stares down at the still-naked knight. Leon's spread his clothes out on the grass to dry, and stands with his arms crossed, head tipped up.

"I think I like all that... I'll think it over some more." Leon shakes his head and lowers it. "We keep having these deep talks whenever we're alone. It's funny how asking about my virginity led into this one."

A loud snort escapes him and he grins at Leon's scarred back. "Your virginity, and the fact you've never been kissed before."

"You can't say that about me anymore, Piers gave me one!"

He stifles his laughter just enough to get his words out. "And I'm sure Piers will happily give you many, many more if you keep impressing him like you did today."

Leon makes a stuttered sound and Raihan laughs louder seeing his shoulders hunch in embarrassment.

Losing the fight was almost worth it if it means he gets to witness all this. The only thing he really missed seeing was the kiss itself, which he turned his back for. Next time he'll be sure to catch it, because he does have the sense that there'll be a next time. Piers is fond of his new friend already, that much is plain to see. The idea of Piers giving him another kiss on the cheek is pretty cute. A kiss on the lips... not bad either. Piers showing affection in any manner is adorable, even if it's not aimed towards his partner.

Leon giving _Piers_ a kiss... hm. Knights like to kiss hands, right? That would be fine. And Raihan's been to places where kisses on the cheek are simple greetings. But if Leon were to lay one on Piers, initiate and kiss him on the mouth...

He doesn't know how he feels about that. Not yet. He'll have to wait and mull it over and see how he feels about it after some time passes. It's nearly impossible for him to talk about things he doesn't know his stance on yet.

"Leon, get up here, sit with me." He scrapes his tail across the stone. "Take your clothes, too, they'll dry better up here."

He curls his tail out of the way and rolls onto his front once more, wings folded close to make room for Leon to join him. Piers should be okay waiting a little longer. He was the one wanting them to get close, after all. And if Raihan can give his opinion on that development, he'd say they're on just the right track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ogh god it felt good to write Raihan again. It's been, what... (counts on fingers) a little over 31k words since we last saw through his eyes, yeesh!
> 
> "Mo gràdh" is Gaelic, and means "my love!"
> 
> Next chapter: We learn a little more about Piers and the family he left behind.


	3. Àitesambith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I wasn't expecting such a big response from y'all last chapter it got me way way hyped to leap right into this one. This chapter is 60% Piers waxing poetic about his homeland and self-indulgent world building. And 40%.... other stuff.

Leon settling into routine is a wondrous thing to behold, if Piers could pick one thing to say about it.

The prince takes to his new life with an equal blend of ardor and seriousness, that special blend of feeling that comes from knowing he's been given the chance of a lifetime, with no desire to waste a single moment of it.

Piers is more than mere beholder to his new friend's growth, as is Raihan. The two of them do their active best to shuffle their daily lives around to make room for a third, who enters that space as tentatively as the fawns taking their first steps through the territory's woods.

With his draconic partner off managing springtime's increasing demands, Piers is the one spending the most time with Leon. He's determined to show his new friend everything he needs to feel at home. To feel like this place _is_ his home.

The Rhondeland prince was more than happy to start learning basic housekeeping. Having someone to clean with does make all the tasks more enjoyable. Piers has never seen anyone so happy to hold a broom or fold his own clothes.

(Clothes that Piers found the spare fabric to make, seeing as how Leon's belongings were a lost cause in the village where he left them when he went off to slay the dragon. A quick search through the storeroom unearthed some of the previous owner's old things, too big to wear without looking comical. Piers made quick work of cutting them down to size using his approximate knowledge of Leon's measurements and sewed them into something less garish.

The prince wears them well, but Piers and Raihan both have the suspicion that Leon could don a flour sack and still look regal.)

He subjected the man to multiple tours, showing him the ins and outs of the cottage, the common spots outside (such as the well and the entrance to the cellar), and warned him of certain regions he should avoid venturing into alone. At least, until the land adjusts to him.

When asked what that meant, Piers only smiled, and said, "You don't think we're the only things alive out here worth heedin', do you?"

And that sparked another one of Leon's Wonder Modes, as Piers affectionately calls them in the privacy of his thoughts. That visible shift from composed to inflamed with curiosity. Leon has a thirst for knowledge and a hunger for new experiences that Piers can hardly keep up with at times. He doesn't mind the challenge; getting swept up in another's passions is invigorating. Every time his new friend sparks with fascination, and those full lips press around the beginnings of an innocent 'w,' it's impossible to not succumb by the time the 'who,' 'what,' 'when,' or 'why' is flung for him to catch.

If Piers was able, he'd indulge every curiosity that crosses Leon's mind, and so far he's done a good job of it. The questions are all innocent, many born from a desire to learn for learning's sake, other times for practicality's sake.

But every so often, he's caught off guard.

Currently, the two sit on mismatched armchairs down in the main room of the cottage. Leon sits straight and proper while Piers is half-sideways, one leg slung over an arm of his chair. The natural ambient light coming through the windows grants an atmosphere perfect for peaceful reading, and that's exactly what they're doing. Piers made good on his promise that Leon could read whatever he wanted, and made a few recommendations that Leon tore through with a voracity that almost matches his own.

While Leon is catching up on the books both are most eager to discuss, Piers indulges in lighter material. Such as this honestly-terrible romance novel. It's one he's already read before, and he's perusing its pages once again. It might be trash, but it has... titillating characters, if nothing else.

"Piers...?"

_And Thryssa lunged for her lover, her relief at his safety winning over her terror of his blood-slicked visage. He did not open his arms for her, as he did not wish to place his hands—hands synonymous with death that dealt such violent pain—to Thryssa's innocent and pale flesh._

"Mm?" He turns a page, keeping an ear open for whatever's caught Leon's attention this time.

_And yet, when she crashed against his chest with open sobs heaving her bosom, thrusting the rosy mounds against him like they meant to resuscitate his stony heart with their emotionally-wrought pulsing, he could not help but wipe a tear away, streaking blood across her abalone cheek..._

"Where are you really from?" Leon edges.

Piers' thumb slips and the paper audibly shifts. 

"Why d'you ask?" He focuses unduly on turning back a page, pretending that he missed a word and needs to reread. Where was he, yes...

_—hands synonymous with death that dealt such violent pain—_

"Nevermind. Sorry, forget what I asked."

Instead of relief, unease continues to wind itself around his shoulders. His fingers tap the top edge of the novel and he stills them as soon as he notices.

"...I can forget what you asked, but will you forget what I asked?"

Leon fidgets. He's done more of that, lately, and Piers is oddly—and inappropriately—relieved to see it. He'd rather Leon convey when he's on edge instead of try to mask it. Which is quite hypocritical of him to say.

"I'm sorry, I should have started with that. I'd like to know more about you." That simple admission is the broken floodgate. "I know you don't like thinking about home—about wherever you came from, sorry, but... I haven't stopped wondering. It's been on my mind for days that I've heard more about you from Raihan than from yourself..."

With a slow turn of his wrist, the book flops closed. The sound it makes seems judgemental, almost.

Has he really not been sharing anything about himself? So much that Raihan's been picking up the slack of helping Leon get to know him? True, his default is to keep as much close to his chest as possible, for safety's sake...

The next words out of Leon's mouth kick the shame right into him. "We're friends, aren't we?"

_Hello there, guilt, lovely morning. You here for tea?_

Piers pushes himself back to sit more properly, with both feet on the floor.

Forget any reservations he has. Leon's not going to think any differently of him. How can he look at that face and think a few details about his life will change what they have? He should put more faith in his friend and his pure-hearted nature.

He forces the apology off his tongue. It feels good, once he gets started. "We are friends. I'm sorry, I didn' realize I'd been keepin' details about me so close to heart. I'll do better at openin' up to you, you deserve more from me."

Leon drops his gaze and smooths his hand over the open book in his lap. "I don't want to pressure you if there's things that are hard to talk about... You don't have to tell me everything if you don't want—"

"I do. ...I do," he reassures more softly. "'M just not used to it. I'm glad you brought it up, woulda gone on not sharin' a thing otherwise. You wanna know where I'm from, yeah?"

He tries for a smile and finds it returned, tentative on them both.

"If that's alright," Leon quietly says.

Talking about home is as good a place to start as any. It's relatively neutral ground to start sharing about himself.

"You already have a guess to where, if I recall. When we first met, you recognized me accent."

Leon nods, perking up in unsuppressed interest. "It's from Àitesambith, right?"

The hell kind of place is that.

"No, I'm from—"

Piers' mind matches Leon's phonetics to a spelling, and promptly bridges the gap of misunderstanding. The mangled pronunciation of his homeland rips the discomfort right out of him, expelled via unexpected laugh.

"Is that how you've been pronouncing it? Mate, I barely recognized that!"

Leon goes red. "I've only read the name before! How are you supposed to say it?"

Now this is familiar territory. Piers suppresses his good humor for his friend's sake, folds his hands over the book on his lap, and sits up straight.

"Listen close, alright?" He clears his throat. "Ahh-che-sam-bee."

Leon clumsily parrots him, getting it pretty close for his first try. Piers course-corrects him with each try, and once it's acceptable, gives an approving nod.

"Keep practicin' and it won't feel like such a mouthful. Mispronunciation aside... aye, correct you were," he says, letting his accent thicken.

Leon sits back in his seat, pushing his bangs up and letting them flop back over his forehead.

"Wow... I've always wanted to visit that place. I've mostly only read about your country, and it sounds beautiful. I've heard a few things from Rose about it, but he... didn't have the same good impression."

Rhondeland's king? A brief image of a wide, pristine smile topped by cold unfeeling eyes flashes from his memory. He met King Rose once, on a diplomatic visit that his mother decided would be a good experience for him. While the interaction would seem pleasant to an observer, it was anything but to his child self.

He wonders if Marnie's ever met the man yet... By now she's old enough to be introduced as crown princess to any and all political correspondents.

Àitesambith's prince may have rejected his old life for how it rejected him first, but he still loves his country, and the urge to stay up to date on the politics of home still burns strong.

"And what might Rose have said about my lovely homeland?"

"I can't remember specifics, it was so long ago... I just remember him not being happy. He only gets visibly upset about things he realizes he can't control, so... for your country's sake, I'd take it as a good sign."

That puts a pleased smile on his face. "Goin' by what I know about your lovely king, I'm proud we've vexed him so. My people show their throats to no one, 'specially not those who are askin' fer it. We may not be warmongers but you'd be hard-pressed to find a single one of us who'd surrender to anythin'."

Brave, passionate people, they are.

Nostalgia tugs at his heart, and he gives in to it, just for now.

"Anythin' you've been achin' to know in particular?"

Leon sets his book aside on the arm of the chair and sits forward. "I'd love if you told me what Eita—...Àitesambith," he carefully says, continuing after Piers' proud nod, "is like. In your own words. I read that it's far north of Rhondeland, close to the remnant lands, and full of magic because of it. I couldn't find any atlases with much detail beyond the political borders."

Not too bad of an impression. Piers is relieved that's all Leon knows. Gods know that nobles love to gossip nasty about things they don't understand. And there's a lot about Àitesambith not many understand, not even its people or royal family. The key thing is that some things are better left well enough alone. It's possible to live alongside the mysterious in peace without probing where your nose doesn't belong. Easier to live longer, too, with that in mind.

"Aye, all you've said is true, but hardly a deep assessment." He leans back in his chair and extends his legs, crossing them at the ankle and folding his hands over his stomach. "Let's see here..."

If anyone in Àitesambith wants a pre-made speech about the beauty and wonder of the land, they only have to reach as far as the songs everyone knows. They're as poetic as they come, but he doubts Leon would understand a word coming out of his mouth if he sang in full unfettered brogue. And forget about singing in the proper old tongue the songs were originally written in.

There's other ways to get the point across. Especially for someone who prides themselves on their speech like Piers does. It's one of the few things he won't shun praise for (something Raihan enjoys taking full advantage of).

"As you heard, we're up near the remnant lands. While most humans are scared to go near anythin' that old, let alone settle, we've proudly made our home atop the bones of the ancients. Been there so long that Àitesambith might as well be from that time as well."

Leon's on the edge of his seat, eyes wide, lips parted, the picture of enraptured and they've barely started. Piers smiles slightly around his words, happy to have such an attentive audience.

"Magic makes for a land rich year-round. The green of the hills and moors only fades when the mists roll over, dense and purposeful, dullin' the edge of even the harshest tones. The sun doesn't greet us much in Àitesambith, but we don't lack for fair weather, a'least by our standards."

Any visitors from less intense lands often bemoan the lack of sunshine, as if the land isn't rich and vibrant enough without it. When the sun does shine, the beauty becomes near blinding. It exposes so much, magnifies so much, and some things are better left unexposed. The cloud cover is a blessing. A blanket that keeps restful things resting.

"Many of the greenlands are speared through with great spires of rock. Everyone calls them teeth, and if you could see them you'd know why. Like some great beast from hell is sinkin' its jagged fangs into the land up from below.

"Rolling fields aside, we've got cliffs and lakes sheer and deep as they come, and woods so dense no man's breached the trees since the forest was newly grown. Not even the eldest in the kingdom can remember any tales from _their_ eldest elders of when that was. We know it's not in our place to breach the forests long closed off to us."

Leon's about to fall off the edge of his seat. "Do you know what's in there? In those woods?"

"Partly," he chuckles. "All sorts of things dwell in the places not meant for man to venture." He drops his voice to conspiratorial, alert for Leon's coming reaction. "More still wander and mingle among us."

Leon gasps and sits up straighter. "Rhondeland barely has any magical creatures. I've only seen things in the royal menagerie. Have you seen many...?"

Royal menagerie? How many poor... no, it'll be no use to bother about that. If Leon doesn't look uncomfortable talking about a menagerie then whatever creatures inside aren't being abused, Piers can extrapolate that much...

"I have indeed." He lets his audience hang for just the right span. "I've seen more than my fair share. It's practically everyday life to see a pixie on the sill or spot kelpies in the waters on a stroll. 'S long as you stay respectful and bow your head, they'll make no trouble."

On the other side of things, any trouble a human starts is swiftly dealt with. There's hardly any need to discipline those who don't respect the land when the land is capable of giving as good as it got. Fools suffer quickly in Àitesambith. And gods forbid that anyone mess with the fae.

Speaking of, Leon might love to hear about that...

"Now, Àitesambith is a bit of a special case, politically. We coexist with another court in the same land. I'm from the human one, o'course, and my family's got its power bein' rulers of the people, but the court of the fae is just as influential as we. Certainly much more frightening."

He can't help but smirk at the raw wonder on his audience's face. He does enjoy captivating people, whether it's through silent action or weaving a magic of his own through words. This simple storytelling is nothing compared to what else he could do with his mouth (he's glad Raihan can't hear his thoughts, because he'd surely do something obscene with his eyebrows at that), but this still brings a satisfaction of its own.

"Normally we stick to our own dealings. _An Sìth_ care little for what goes on outside their land, but they do care about keepin' humans in their place—that is to say, humble and preferably far away—and the royal family's convenient for doin' the work for them. Whenever one of us royals is born, crowned, marries, or dies, they always pay a visit, and sometimes drop a blessing or two."

He was no exception. When he was born, some member of the Other Court granted his wee baby self the gift of resistance. No charms or glamours would ever dull his sight, nor could any magic influence his body or mind, not without great power. Of course, such a gift wouldn't work on them; the fae would never grant a boon that might be turned against them. In a way, Piers was grateful for it. One only has to see the cruel razor edge to every smile, or the way their too-long fingers move a little too much, to know that under those gorgeous skins are creatures no mortal should have to see. Not without going insane.

 _An Sìth_ were quite fond of him, as far as a fairy's fondness of a mortal creature can go. He spent many careful hours chatting with them on the edge of their woods, ever mindful of every word exchanged with their clever kind. They gave him better lessons in conversation and negotiation than any human tutor ever had.

Before him, they talked with his mum the same way. They spoke much about her, telling Piers things he'd never have learned otherwise as they crooned over his hair and decorated him in pretty flowers. To learn more, all he had to do was sing them songs and please their ears, and they'd give him tidbits of knowledge for entertaining them.

"You mean you've seen them?" Leon breathes, pulling him out of his brief musings. "Up close?"

_Like he's reading my mind._

"Oh, multiple times, in whatever from they choose to present for the occasion." His smile wanes. "Always so pretty. Outshinin' everythin'. Especially on the darker days."

He still remembers every detail. Cloud cover so thick the whole day was one long twilight. The burial in the lake reserved for royal deaths. Standing alone, only an arm's length from his father yet feeling like he was the only person on the shore until the fair folk arrived to pay their respects to the departed queen. He didn't look at any of their faces; as a child he did not have the right to lift his gaze to them. But he felt a touch on his shoulder, light as a moth's wing, and let that comfort him, even if the gesture was as empty as all a fae's gestures are.

It's strange that he misses those creatures, when he knows his presence in their lives—lives as long as the land is old—was only a fleeting fancy to them. Just like his mother's was, before she died.

He sighs and puts on a light smile. He needs to stop getting swept up in reminiscing for the sake of the person hanging on his words. No good storyteller pauses for longer than necessary.

"I was told the birth of my sister drew a particularly lovely crowd—"

A sharp, full-breath gasp startles him. "You have a sister! Please, tell me about her!"

Leon looks more worked up over family talk than anything magical. Fortunate for him that Piers is more than pleased to talk about his sister. She's the one family member he can speak of with happiness, without the chained ballast of grudges or grief weighing him down. A welcome departure from the previous topic.

"My sister's name is Marnie. Crown princess and pride of the kingdom," he says with as much stateliness as he can muster.

Leon rises from his chair and crosses the room in swift paces. He plops onto the rug in front of Piers, cross-legged and scooting closer on his arms. "She's older than you, then?"

Piers pulls his legs up onto the chair with him, and Leon uses the new space to scoot even closer.

The urge to reach down and pat him on the head surges out of nowhere. It goes ignored, of course.

(But he does think about it.)

"No, she's a fair bit younger. Àitesambith's matriarchal, the queens rule. I might be firstborn son, but it wasn't 'til Marnie was born that the line of succession was truly complete. She's bound to become queen one o' these days, and what a fine one she'll be."

Before Marnie was born, people joked that the only son of the family could pass as a princess and would likely be accepted as one, too, both by human and non. He hopes those non-humans are treating Marnie just as well as they got along with him.

"So you're a big brother..." Leon's eyes hold a strange yearning. He was an orphan, Piers recalls. Grew up alone.

He nods, hoping that it'll prompt Leon to continue, and he does, voice burdened with wistfulness.

"I've wished that I had younger siblings. Ones that I knew. But whenever I think about Rose being responsible for more than one child, I'm glad I was raised alone..."

Now it's Piers' turn to lean closer. "What do you mean... ones you knew?"

Leon tangles his hand into the hair at the back of his head and looks off to the side, swaying slightly where he sits. "It's... It's silly. I don't even know if what I saw was—if it was just me projecting onto a stranger or not..."

Piers slides off the chair to sit on the floor in front of his distressed friend. Their knees barely touch as they face each other.

"You're gonna have to explain more than that, mate. Tell me what it is."

A dense silence passes. Piers has half a mind to reach out and see if a touch might coax Leon to speak, but before his arm can even twitch, the prince sighs and slumps.

"I want to, but it'll sound crazy."

"I've lived me life around crazy. It'll be hard for you to beat everything I've seen," he gently jests. It works to bring a flicker of a smile back to Leon's face.

"Hopefully this doesn't rank too high up there..." He sighs and lets his arm drop down into his lap. "For context, I barely remember my mother... I used to wonder about her all the time, but after being selected as a candidate for becoming Rose's protege, I was too busy to think about anything other than training."

Leon closes his eyes as he continues. "One day, when I was still young, I was allowed to watch a parade up close. Some flashy royal thing to celebrate the end of another year. It was supposed to be inspiring for me, to see our king looking so grand and splendid at the end of the procession. But I looked through the gaps, to the other side of the crowd, and... saw someone. A woman, right at the front. She was staring right at me. I don't know why, but something about her just... pulled at me. And the way she was looking at me... I still remember her face in the midst of all those people..."

"...You think that was your mother?" He quietly asks.

Leon nods, a minuscule thing, like he's scared to commit to his hope.

"She was pregnant. Visibly. And—And I know this is even more of a stretch, but if she really was my..." He swallows the word down. "Then her baby would have been my sibling. Half-sibling, at least. If it was even born, and if they're still alive... I know it's nonsensical, I have no reason to believe that I might actually have family out there, but..."

Poor thing looks so lost. Piers reaches out, partly to comfort and partly to settle the pangs of empathy in his chest.

"Hey... If your gut's tellin' you there was a connection there, I'd believe it. People don't forget about those they love so easily. Especially when it's between mother and child." Leon's hair is soft through his fingers as he brushes it back behind his shoulders. "I don't know if this'll be a comfort to you, but I'm sure if you did have a little sibling, you'd be a great older brother."

Leon lifts his head, and Piers draws his hand back, wishing he was brave enough to take the detour that would brush his hand along Leon's cheek.

"...You really think so?"

"I know so. Marnie would love you."

The way Leon slowly lightens up buoys Piers' heart as well.

Man's got more charisma than he knows, if his moods can affect other people like this. It'd be dangerous if utilized as a tool, but thank the sleeping gods Leon's never had the mind to try.

"Can you tell me more about your sister? Maybe I can live vicariously through you on what it might be like," Leon mumbles, abashed.

He can do nothing but indulge.

"Course I can," he warmly says, and adjusts to sit more comfortably on the rug. "Marnie's a little spitfire. Even as a wee lass she was always pokin' her nose into things most grown men would cower from. She didn'a always come out brave as she went in, but her willingness to keep at it even after comin' out cryin' was one of her best traits."

He hasn't seen her in the better part of ten years, but he knows she's as grown to be as fierce a girl as they come in Àitesambith, which is saying quite a lot.

Next time he sends her a letter, he'll tell her a bit about his new friend. Nothing incriminating, of course, they have to protect Leon's identity as a dead man. But Marnie should still be happy to hear that her big brother's a little less lonely now.

Leon leans closer, hair slipping over his shoulders. "Does she know you're okay? Or when you ran away, did you let everyone think you were..."

"She knows I ain't dead. Soon as I was able I wrote her a letter tellin' her what happened."

The return letter that arrived months later was crammed so full of words it was practically still damp with the weight of all that ink. He answered as many of her questions as he could, and perhaps for the sake of indulging her imagination, embellished a few things more than necessary. Nothing about Raihan was exaggerated; that dragon's impressive enough that his appearance and deeds need no extra embellishment.

"So, the rest of your family..."

His mouth thins into a flat not-smile. "She hasn't told dear ol' Da that I'm fine. If she did, he'd press her for details and try to find me." His lip curls. "He can die wonderin' about my fate for all I care. Hope it keeps the bastard up at night for what he did t'me."

If he were outside, he'd spit his disdain. That selfish, deranged, "only doing this because I love you," "you'll understand one day" pile of bog-rotten—

A rough hand covers his knee. It yanks him out of his glowering. "Piers?"

Great going... He's gone and worried his friend. It's not something he can easily brush away, not after Leon's been wanting so much to get closer to him.

He sighs to purge as much sour as he can and fiddles with his locket. "...I'll give ye the details later. Not today."

"That's okay. I don't want to make you talk about things if they're painful." The hand withdraws from his knee, fingertips trailing the slightest amount. Just enough that Piers notices, not enough to make him wonder if it was deliberate or not.

"No, it's not painful. Just..." He tugs on the chain with a subtle grimace. "Haven't let go of what happened yet. Don't think I ever will... If I wanna tell the tale without gettin' all worked up like I always do, I'd need Rai with me."

After a pause, he slowly adds, thinking along with his words to test their plausibility out loud. "Or maybe... you'd do fine as well."

"What...?"

Leon has a similar grounding presence to Raihan... They're both such in-the-moment people, warm and bright. Good at chasing away the shadows of dark corners.

And they've both got such rough, comforting hands. Rather, Leon has comforting hands in theory. Just conjecture on Piers' part. The prince doesn't touch him much unless it's to shake him out of his thoughts.

...Doesn't that count, though? Leon doesn't have to touch him the same way Raihan does in order for those touches to count as soothing.

Which is why he said that Leon might be enough for him to talk about past pains without losing himself in the first place.

Alright, then. He just thought himself around a circle. Classic.

"Yeah," he tests. "Forget what I said about needin' Raihan with us. I should be fine given you're there with me."

"I... hope I can be a similar comfort."

Piers reaches up, moving his arm slow so Leon knows it's coming, and rests a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you will. We're friends, aren't we?"

This time, the phrase brings warmth. Leon's shoulder relaxes under his touch and he gives it a squeeze before retracting. He's getting better at this whole casual-touch-with-Leon thing. Raihan does it so easily. The dragon was handsy with their new housemate from day one, but Piers has been trying to work up to it. Touching to comfort is one thing; someday he hopes he can build up to touching with no reason at all.

"We are. Thanks, Piers."

He tilts his head. "Thanks for what?"

"For sharing with me. I really enjoyed learning about you. And your country! I want to know everything there is to know."

...About Àitesambith specifically? Or did he also mean...

One look at Leon's honest face is all that's needed to confirm that yes, he meant both. Piers nibbles the inside of his cheek and forces himself not to look away even though the force of the sentiment is coursing all through his body right now.

The weight of the locket around his neck makes itself known. His hand drifts up to the silver charm and clasps around it, and what little heat his hand holds flees into the metal.

It's something sentimental and precious, rarely opened, and the times it's opened in front of others is rarer still.

He glances around out of habit and crawls to put himself right at Leon's side. This close he can feel the heat radiating from his body, and the light tickle of long hair that isn't his own.

"Here..." He lifts the locket and digs his thumbnail into the seam until it clicks open. "I'll tell you about this. It's special. One of the few things I kept from home that's truly mine."

A scarred hand reaches, not to take the open locket, but to turn Piers' hand so Leon can see it better. The brush of a calloused thumb across his palm staggers his breath.

"They're so tiny!" Leon marvels at the wee thumbprints engraved into the silver halves of the locket. "Are they yours?"

"Marnie's," he corrects. "'M not so sentimental that I'd keep me own baby mementos. What'd be the point?"

Leon's still holding his hand. Does he realize he doesn't need to anymore?

...Because he's selfish, Piers won't point out that it's unnecessary.

"Fair enough. I'd have loved to see how tiny your little hands were. I'm sure Raihan would love that too."

"Don't go givin' him ideas. If I know him he really would fly out to Àitesambith to hunt down whatever artifacts remain of my existence there." He rolls his eyes.

A dragon lighting down in his country's borders would cause quite a stir. None dwell in the land since the land isn't something keen on being owned. Raihan told him all about it, that dragons know better than to muck about with magic that old. If it's just to fetch a few objects that belonged to his partner, however? Piers can see that causing a stir that lasts for years. As interesting as the fallout would be to see, he'd rather not give anyone reason to be curious about him.

"I won't, I won't," Leon promises. "So these are Marnie's thumbprints? They're so cute! Is it common in your country to make lockets like this?"

To get a better look, Leon gently turns his hand, treating it like some delicate instrument.

"Common to take their prints, aye. Most people just use ink and paper and keep that safe."

Normally a family waits until the bairn's lived past two winters before making any records of their growth, but they knew Marnie was special. Such a strong cryer she was, certainly inherited her mother's lungs. And the fae visiting for the occasion said they liked her. To any non-royal that would be cause for incredible concern, but the Other Court has an ongoing promise to never steal any members of the royal family.

He wishes he could see how she's grown. He misses her so. Not even Raihan can ease the ache sometimes, but the knowledge that she's doing just fine, according to what she tells him—and he trusts her to always tell him the truth—is enough to keep his heart at ease.

He traces his finger around the rim of the open locket and stares at the tiny etched whorls.

"You know... my people have a tradition of predictin' personality based on your prints. Right there, see where the whorl's bigger on top than the bottom? That means stubborn. And that bit near the bottom where there's a perfect triangle... Favored by the unearthly, that means. It's all superstitious nonsense, but both turned out true enough for Marnie."

A light rustle is Piers' only warning before a warm arm presses flush against his own and lavender hair tickles his cheek. Leon's up close, nose nearly touching the silver in his quest to inspect this new information. Alright, Leon can hold the locket himself from now on, this is getting too distracting. The warmth, the touch, the scent. He's used to Raihan's everything, but Leon's still so new that Piers pays far too much attention to things like how nice his hair smells.

"That's fascinating! Is it just the thumbs you look at, or all ten fingers?" Leon chatters on, completely oblivious.

Piers clears his throat and leans away slightly to escape Leon's body heat before it can sink in too much. It's comparable to Raihan's, he swears... He can't move far, of course, thanks to the chain around his neck.

"All ten, but the thumbs rank most notable." To buy himself more time to settle down, he rambles off more history. "Whole thing started because lookin' at someone's fingers was a good way to tell if it was really them or not. Fairies like playin' tricks, you know? Bein' able to recognize your friends' prints means you have a way of knowin' it's really them who's in front o' ye. Or for parents, a way to make sure the babe in the crib is still the one that popped outta the mother."

Leon looks mildly horrified, so Piers breezes past the subject.

"Let people stare at things long enough and they'll start derivin' meanings from variations of it. It's our special human brand of crazy. Everyone knows better than to put real stock in print-readin'. Long as you don't take it too seriously, there's fun to be had."

Leon hums thoughtfully. "What do your hands say about you?"

"Oh, er..." Heat rises to his face and he takes the locket from Leon's fingers. "Nothin' all that special. It's embarrassin', honestly."

The clasp clicks shut. With nothing tying the two of them together, Piers is free to scoot away from the living furnace next to him, as if it'll help cool him down.

(It doesn't.)

Leon chases his retreat, leaning into his personal space with those damned big eyes and the loose collar of his shirt hanging down so that if Piers wanted he could peer right down at his chest. Which he does _not_ do, thank you very much.

"Please? Even if it's superstition, I want to know! And can you read mine too?"

...If there's one thing he's learned about living with Leon, it's that he can't say no to that face. Especially not when it's so close.

"Fine, fine, just—sit back and I'll tell you."

Contrary to what he was told, Leon does not sit back on his heels. Instead, he clambers to sit right at Piers' side, leaning close and already staring at his hands.

Looks like he's up first, then.

"Just to reiterate, none of this means a thing. Now then..."

He lifts his hands and stares at them to refresh his memory, and promptly wrinkles his nose.

"My thumbs say I'm a natural leader." He huffs as old annoyances bubble up. "And accordin' to my index, I'm 'pure of heart,' which is the biggest crock o' shite I ever heard. 'Stubborn' is alright, I'm okay with that one. But kind soul? Gentle? I don't see it."

"But that all sounds like you."

"If there was ever a case against—Sorry?"

"I said that..." Leon tucks some hair behind his ear and leans back against the base of the armchair. "That all sounds like you. Gentle, natural leader... kind... and stubborn, yeah. A little of that too," he laughs.

This... bloody sweetheart, what the hell.

Piers clears his throat and waves his hand dismissively. "Well accordin' to my left pinky, I was meant to die young, so that should tell you how much to trust these things in the end."

Leon looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn't. "Will you still tell me what my fingers say?"

He sighs and leans back against the chair as well. "As if I'd say no. Here, give me your—"

He's barely turned his palms up before a pair of large hands are placed right onto them. Eager, ain't he...

"Sorry if they might be hard to read... I don't have pretty hands like yours," Leon says, excitement lacing the apology.

"Hush, your hands are lovely." It's true. Leon's might be scarred and worn, more callus than not, but they're not unsightly. Piers always had a thing for well-worked hands like this. Especially when they're used gently. "I can read it just fine. One at a time, though, if you please."

As Leon picks which hand he wants to start with, Piers smooths his thumb over a callus he knows came from a lifetime of wielding a sword. Even if he holds some disdain for the accuracy of this practice, he's happy he gets the opportunity to look at Leon's hands up close.

Now, let's see here...

"...Want me to tell you what this says about your love life while I'm at it?" He glances to the side with a teasing smile. "It's all bullshit, remember, but it can still be fun to hear."

Leon's hand twitches. Piers tenses his grip automatically, and Leon's face darkens. "It's tempting, but I'm fine. I think I'd rather figure that stuff out for myself."

"For yourself, eh?" He chuckles. "Takin' fate into your own hands is all the rage these days..."

He narrows his eyes and lifts the large hand closer to his face, squinting at the fingertips. The skin under his touch is rough and hard. Leon might be nobility, but he certainly led no pampered life...

"This here... on your thumb." He strokes down the digit. "That shape means strong charisma. And over here, quick learner. Committed to your goals..."

He's loath to admit that so far, these are pretty accurate for Leon, based on what he knows of the man so far. His lower lip protrudes slightly in concentration as he tries to read past a scar slashing across a finger's print.

"Life of hardship, that's a rough one... I'd say you've fulfilled that ten times over. But since this one's been cut up, one could say you've been freed of that fate. That's how I choose to interpret it. You deserve it."

He gives Leon's palm a rub and glances aside at his face, and promptly has to look back down. Leon had such a serious set to his face, staring down at their hands like they really do hold valuable secrets.

Something warm winds through his chest, and he swallows. Pets along Leon's hand and focuses once more.

"The angle of this loop here means a kind soul..."

Leon's finger shifts under his touch. "You had that one too," he murmurs.

"Yours is clearer than mine."

"I still say it's accurate."

Piers' gaze is dragged up, compelled by something he'd rather not voice. Leon isn't looking at their hands anymore, and Piers is seamlessly caught by that close-range gaze.

He licks his lips, suddenly no longer thinking about fingerprints and palms, and his voice eases low. "...You've got the will to question," he recites. "A thirst for self-betterment. Bravery and skill, and a brilliant smile..."

A feather-light pressure wraps around his fingers.

"You didn't look for those last few," Leon whispers.

The corner of his lip twitches up, and he whispers back. "Didn't have to."

He blinks, and Leon seems closer than he was before. Can't tell which of them might have moved. Maybe one, maybe both... Hard to think of much at all when those art-inspiring eyes are right there. Straight nose. Full lips. Back to the eyes.

It's definitely both of them that are moving closer. Leon's gaze flickers down to mirror where Piers was looking a moment ago, and in response, Piers' tongue peeks out to barely wet his lips. His heart's picking up tempo in anticipation. Perhaps he should let Leon close this minute distance, see what he does... What he might want...

Leon jerks away so suddenly the air displacement makes Piers' bangs flutter. The man is red down to his neck.

"I-In Rhondeland, people like to predict fate using these special flowers! You grow it from a seed, and once it blooms, it's ready for a priest to look at. It can take months to get there, so it's not something people do every day because it's so much work. Only nobles can spare the time but I've never done it myself. I ah, like what Àitesambith does! Very intim—interesting! Very interesting. I like it. Very much."

That redirection was as subtle as Raihan is when he wants his horns beds scratched.

Subtlety may not be a competition, but Piers still takes the crown of it when he eases through an inaudible sigh and relaxes against the base of the armchair. Like nothing ever happened. Like he wasn't expecting, hoping, for the opportunity to give Leon another kiss, on more than just the cheek. Nothing wrong with cheek kisses, of course. There's just... other spots, too. That's all. Nothing wrong with a nice, friendly kiss on the lips...

_Are you listening to yourself right now? Friendly my arse.  
_

He internally grimaces. Now isn't the time to think about that. He'd need Raihan with him...

"Interesting indeed... Growin' flowers sounds a lot better t'me. A'least you're in control of it somewhat."

Silence settles over their heads. Leon's clearly got something on his mind, and he's not alone in that. Piers hopes he's not the only one with a heart that refuses to slow down.

Eventually, the other prince speaks up.

"What book were you reading?"

Piers snorts. "Some trash vampire story. Terrible readin', honestly."

More silence.

"...Could you read some to me?"

He lets out a laugh at that, glad for the release of some tension. He reaches up behind his head to feel for wherever he set the book down on the chair.

"Alright, but I ain't startin' over. You're pickin' up where I left off. With somethin' about magic life-givin' bosoms."

There it is. Which page did he leave off on... Ah, here. On the abalone cheek.

Instead of getting back up to his cushy seat, Piers is content to sit on the floor against it, with Leon at his side. Leon leans back as well, with a small gap separating their arms.

Piers clears his throat, suppresses his accent, and begins a sonorous narration.

"Thryssa cried and beat her fists against a chest as hard and rugged and cold as a fortress of stone. Jomborton let it happen. He knew he deserved it. All that mattered to him was how beautiful and ethereal Thryssa seemed as she—"

"Piers?"

He lowers the book with a hum. "Tired of it already? Told you it was trash."

"That's not it. I'd like to hear you read with your accent, if that's okay. I really like it." Leon closes his eyes.

Rather than try to come up with an answer that doesn't reveal his new embarrassment, Piers continues reading aloud with Leon's request fresh in mind.

_I really like it._

He uses a page turn to adjust his arm and close the gap between them, and a few sentences later, smiles around his reading when Leon leans closer in turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention that this fic is slow burn? I forgot to tag this thing as slow burn. That's fixed now, whoops.
> 
> Thanks to [thatpizzasitter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepizzasitter/pseuds/thepizzasitter) for inspiring me when coming up with ideas for Àitesambith and helping me out with the Gaelic bits! They're an amazing writer, please check out their content if you're a fan of kbdnnz and its various combinations, I'm beggin ya
> 
> Gaelic used in this chapter:  
> "Àitesambith" is condensed from "àite sam bith" which means "nowhere." If you remember from Fortune Favors, Piers introduces himself to Leon as "Piers of nowhere," and while he was being evasive, he wasn't lying.
> 
> An Sìth - The fae/the fair folk. Sìth is pronounced "shee."
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: After getting Raihan/Leon and now some Piers/Leon, what does that leave us? Some Raihan/Piers! It's about time we see them be cute as a couple. Cute, and, some other things too B)


	4. Caught and Cornered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, finally, some kbnz couple time.
> 
> This chapter contains not on-screen smut, but serious flirting and the immediate aftermath of smut. I went ahead and knocked the rating one step up to Mature.

The crisp wind above the forests flows unobstructed to the tallest point in the territory. It's not quite a mountain, but still tall enough, and rocky enough on its north side, to count as a satisfying perch.

Raihan crouches on a large jut of rock. Below the overhang, a waterfall begins, gushing out of the rock face and tumbling down to create a foaming, misty pool at the base. He follows the stream with his eyes until it joins with the main river flowing through his and Piers' land.

All is well. And not for lack of work. This territory isn't the most demanding of all the ones Raihan's fostered over the years, but it has its unique trials. He was never one for temperate forests but the terrain's grown on him, and the biodiversity of this place is insane. Requires a lot of mental juggling to stay on top of everything. And more and more time, as well, as things warm up.

Currently, his biggest concern are the two unicorn stallions vying for dominance in the east-most forest, the deep wood where magic is strongest and the most interesting creatures dwell. They've caused a fair amount of destruction in their clashes, but that's to be expected. Their rivalry-fueled rampaging is bound to be over sometime in the next several days. The only thing he's concerned about is whether the winner will be the stallion who's the sire of the filly already hidden away with her mother in a deeper corner of the woods, or the other male, who'd have motivations to kill the foal. Unicorns are rare enough as it is, hunted to near-nothing by humans. If the victorious one seeks to destroy his rival's foal, then Raihan will make the call to intervene. 

The wind gusts and he opens his wings to feel it. Fair weather for at least the next few days, it says... A potential promise of rain... No thunderstorms yet, although he's expecting one soon. It's inevitable that he crosses paths with storms. If he doesn't find them, they'll find him.

His ears perk and his head turns before he fully processes what he's hearing. A voice carries on the wind, blurred by its courier and faint over the roar of the waterfall, with a unique, musical message of its own.

Raihan grins and turns to fully face the direction of the song. It might be faint, but he'd recognize his partner's voice from anywhere.

He's being beckoned, and what kind of dragon would he be if he kept his treasure waiting?

\- - -

He chases Piers' voice until he pinpoints exactly where the man is located beneath. It's a spot not too far from the edge of the woods, a place where the trees are thin enough for him to sneakily make a landing. Piers chose this on purpose, he knows, and he grins to himself over it.

A gap in the trees grants just enough room to land without bashing his wings against anything. He'll go on foot from here. That sweet voice is tugging at him, pulling him closer.

This forest is easy for him to navigate silently. He might not blend in with the greens and browns at all, but he still has the silence and grace of a top notch predator to sneak up on anything not paying attention. Or anything choosing not to pay attention.

A flash of black and white between two trees has Raihan stilling and lowering his body.

There he is.

Raihan creeps a few silent steps to the side to get a better look. Piers is in a tiny clearing, lit up by the sunbeams reaching through the leaves, doing nothing but wandering the small space and singing in that language Raihan can't understand but appreciates for its beauty nonetheless. On such a clear and soothing voice, carried by such a gorgeous and ethereal being like Piers, the effect is compounded into utterly breathtaking.

He'd be happy to stay in the background and listen, and watch, if he didn't recognize this blatant invitation for what it is.

Piers glides a few easy steps away, back turned and hair swaying, but the clarity of his voice doesn't diminish one bit. Raihan waits until his lover takes a breath before deliberately stepping on a fallen stick.

The singing pauses, and he grins when it continues. Now the real fun can begin.

He stalks closer, taking his sweet time on the approach. Why rush it? The sooner he gets there the sooner Piers will stop singing, and it's been a while since he got to hear his treasure's sweet song. He'd stand still to listen if he could, but he's helpless against its pull.

Every so often he lets a part of him brush against foliage on purpose. A scrape of his tail on bark, a nudge of a twig, a flick of a leaf... Unlike the first time, Piers doesn't falter in his song, and for all his slow walking and turning, not once does he face where Raihan's approaching.

Lunging distance. He can already imagine that slender body in his hands... Piers stands with his back square to the predator in the brush, trilling pretty and cocking a hip and flicking his bangs aside.

Almost. Almost...

Black and white shifts as Piers turns his head, and Raihan leaps. He sweeps his prey into his arms and tackles him down, wings flaring and beating once harshly to slow the fall so that the delicate human isn't hurt from being knocked down to the grass. Piers' gasp is sweet in his ears. Raihan lets out a dramatic growl through bared teeth. He's not holding the other down at all, merely caging the man in with his body.

"Looking for trouble, pretty thing?" He drags appreciative eyes over the form of his treasure laying on the grass beneath him, hair splayed over vibrant green and eyes staring up brighter than the flowers swaying around them.

"Only as much trouble as you're willin' to give me." Piers arches a brow. Raihan mirrors it, and before long both of them are cracking smiles. "Good to see you in the sunlight, love."

Raihan pouts. He does his best to come home in a timely manner, to snuggle up and sleep in Piers' bed. _Their_ bed, now that Leon's occupying the other one. But it's always been after sunset, and lately he's been crawling into bed later and later with every night that passes.

His treasure has Leon to keep him company now, so he thought it'd be alright, but for Piers to come calling for him...

"You missed me?" His smile softens, and he lowers himself and nuzzles his treasure's cheek with his own.

Hm... Lots of Leon-scent today. They've been spending a lot of time together lately. Getting along. Getting closer. Getting that companionship humans need from each other.

Cool hands fall around his bare shoulders. "Perhaps I have been a bit lackin'..."

He noses up the side of Piers' neck for some self-indulgent breathing. As much as he loves the special scent of his partner by itself, he has to admit that the addition of Leon isn't bad at all. It's headier, sharper, and blends nicely with all the subtleties of Piers'. He can also smell the bread Piers must have made earlier in the day, and the pollen of the flowers Piers passed to reach this part of the territory. The wood-rotty sweetness of all those old books he reads. So many intricacies, shifting day by day...

"You done there?"

"Mm, nope." Just one more. He's always re-committing his partner's scent and all its variations to memory. Leon's gets to hitchhike on the way. He breathes deep, and gives the pale neck a kiss before sitting up with a satisfied grin and sigh. "Now I am. So what brings you here, all alone? I thought you wanted to show Leon more of the territory today."

Piers pouts. Raihan almost leans back down to kiss that lower lip back into place, but the idea remains a mere idea when Piers speaks up.

"I planned on it. But changed me mind. Thought he deserved a little alone time. Whereas, you and I..." A pale hand lifts and Raihan takes it to hold between them. His thumb rubs across bony knuckles, and he gazes across their joined touch to meet Piers' eyes. "We deserve a little together time, don't you think?"

A pleased rumble leaves him and he leans forward once more to hover low over Piers' body. He'd love to lay down, but he doesn't want to crush the skinny thing without their bed helping to take most of his weight.

Piers' hands approach his face and his eyelids droop before those cool fingertips have touched him. Just the promise of being touched is enough to relax him, and once he's finally caressed on the cheek, it's bliss. His wings lower and rest on the ground and his tail goes limp on the grass.

"My sweet beastie..." Piers holds his face and rubs his cheekbones with his thumbs. "You look like you missed this more'n I did."

He answers with a groan and nuzzles into Piers' hands. A melodic laugh wraps around him and one of those hands withdraws. Raihan opens his eyes. The sight of Piers laying happily beneath him makes his heart swell, almost like it's demanding a bigger body in which to beat. But even if Raihan were in full draconic glory, it wouldn't make a difference, his larger heart would still be full to bursting with adoration. Plus, if he were in full draconic glory, it would be much much harder to cuddle his mate. Partner.

Piers' fingertips ghost over his lips. He opens his mouth and chases one, catching it lightly between his teeth. All it would take is one wrong twitch of his jaw to draw blood. They both know this, but neither are afraid. Piers is smiling, even, pressing his finger a bit harder against the point of the tooth. Trust, there's so much trust that Piers gives him... It fills him with pride knowing he's been given such a valuable thing. Trust is all the more precious when it comes from something so vulnerable.

Ah, but it's not that fair to think of Piers as vulnerable. Frail the human might be, but without his strengths? Oh, no. That mind of his is as sharp as Raihan's claws and so's his tongue.

The dragon is all the better for having a partner who sees the world, thinks about the world, deals with it and all its challenges, in ways he never would. When they combine their respective talents the results are always better than anything they could do on their own. As it should be, for mates.

...Partners, whoops. They're not "official" mates, not in the dragon way. As much as Raihan would love to bind their relationship, he understands that Piers isn't ready yet. They don't even know if it would work, given Piers' humanity and his strange incompatibility with magic. He hopes someday they'll get to try and see what happens. He'll wait as long as he needs to, for Piers to be ready.

The hands leave him, and it takes a moment before he notices they haven't come back yet. He opens his eyes, since apparently he closed them again while getting petted, and gets one glimpse of a devious smirk before Piers is scrambling out from under him.

The sudden motion snaps Raihan's instincts to the forefront and he pounces. It's quick, accurate, and harmless; all the force of his lunge slams into the earth above Piers' head.

"You know better than to make a dragon chase you..." He purrs and lifts his wings to form a shadowed canopy, a private space to block out the wind and the sun and muffle the sounds of the forest. "Fun as it is, you'll never get far."

Piers rolls onto his back, lifts his arms over his head, and stretches. Such a display of carelessness underneath a predator. "Are you so sure I've been had? You haven't done a thing to me yet. If you wanna play with me, why not give me a chance to run?"

He barks out a laugh and plays along. He loves games. Especially spontaneous ones... "I know better than to let prey go once I've got it. I've got you right where I want you..."

To demonstrate, Raihan places his hand right at Piers' waist, and lightly grips the reedy body where the curve is most prominent. The touch is enough to make the human still himself down to his breathing.

"What if I say please?" Piers whispers and stares as Raihan lowers himself. He can hear Piers' heartbeat quickening, hear how he shifts on the grass and how his breath roughens.

He doesn't wait for a reply. He pushes Piers' shirt up, grinning at how his treasure arches his back to help it along, and admires the pale flesh for only a moment before beginning his mission to make it less pale. A little tongue, a little teeth, a nibble here and there... He smirks against Piers' stomach every time it tenses.

"Isn't this better than running?" He chuckles and drags his tongue up to Piers' ribs.

A cool touch on his head beckons his attention upward, and the fire in Piers' eyes demands him to stop. Wait. And listen very, very closely.

"I know somethin' better still." Piers nudges his chin up with a single finger. "Rather than run... rather than give up..." His voice drops low. "Fightin' back sounds more my style..."

His tail rasps across the grass behind him. "And how might a little thing like you do that?"

As if Raihan doesn't already know the answer. The multiple, multiple answers. All equally good, in his eyes. It's up to Piers to reveal which one...

"This little thing knows more'n one way to put a dragon on his back. Been an awful long while since I've tamed the mighty beast..." Piers says, with enough hunger in his voice to rival a real dragon, and grasps Raihan's horn. One light push is all that's needed to tilt his head back and bare his throat. Piers might not be able to do a thing to hurt him past his scales, but the way the human eyes his neck has Raihan's heartbeat quickening.

_Fuck yes. We're doing this._

Fire licks up his core and he growls his words. "Gonna tame me here?"

Piers shakes his head, lets go of his horn, and smirks. "You know where. The real question is, are you so eager to be under me that you're willin' to get there right away?"

He's up in an instant, pulling his treasure into his arms and throwing his head back to gauge the density of the trees above them. It's enough to reach the sky.

A cool hand rubs up the back of his neck and a voice full of smoke and spice whispers promises right into his ear that stoke his inner fire.

There's not a second to lose. He's taking Piers home _now_.

* * *

With Raihan gone and Piers out for a walk, Leon took the initiative to do a little surprise tidying. The cottage isn't dirty, Piers is fastidious about keeping dust away, but the number of books left scattered about gives the illusion of a space not cared for. There's a half-empty bookshelf in his own room, no doubt the intended resting place for them all.

And thus begins his mission.

 _The Gentlewoman's Guide to Decorative Embroidery_ was gathering dust on a windowsill, while _Underhanded Passion_ , another romance novel separate from the one Piers read aloud to him before, was found... underneath his own bed. A volume on magic theory, part two of a set, was hiding in the recesses of an armchair.

For someone who loves reading so much, it's strange that Piers allows his books to wander so far. Then again, Leon's seen him get so absorbed in reading that he doesn't register his own name being called, so a little absent-mindedness shouldn't come as a surprise.

Leon catches himself smiling as he slots books onto the shelf. It's hard not to, whenever his thoughts drift to his housemates. Piers has been so patient with him, teaching him so many new things and never tiring of his constant questions, while Raihan—in the few times he's crossed paths with the dragon here and there—is always a fierce and inspiring presence. Leon might have abandoned his crown, but thanks to these two, he's never felt aimless. They've been giving him new goals, new direction, new things to do with his life, and he's grateful for everything.

There's so many new things to try and experience...

The memory of sea-green eyes close enough to drown in nearly flusters him into knocking the next book against the edge of the shelf.

New things to experience, for sure... Or, he would have experienced one new thing in particular, if he wasn't a coward who turned away at the last second.

It's been days, but he's still kicking himself for wrecking his chance to kiss Piers. The atmosphere was guiding them along, and Piers leaned closer, it was obviously an invitation! But in the moment, he just... something in him panicked. He wasn't ready. He regrets not being ready, because _why would he not want to kiss him,_ but what can he do about it now? Walk up to Piers and say "Sorry, can we have a do-over, I've been thinking about that moment for days and it's been keeping me up at night?"

Leon, Crown Prince of Rhondeland, is trained in a dozen different combat arts. He's slaughtered countless dangerous creatures, bested the top warriors of other nations to prove Rhondeland's strength, and stared death in the face more times than anyone should be expected to keep their sanity over. He even had the strength to turn his back on his king, for light's sake, but here he is unable to walk up to a friend and strike up conversation about... about...

...He takes it back. He'd rather face a manticore drunk and blindfolded than try to talk to Piers about what happened.

All he can hope for is another chance. Another moment, close, quiet, intense... There's no reason why a similar scene can't occur naturally once more. In the meantime, he'll just carry on as normal. Piers hasn't treated him any differently since then, which is a reassuring sign. He clearly doesn't hold anything against Leon for pulling away...

Raihan's words from that day at the river come floating back. They were talking about kisses...

_I'm sure Piers will happily give you many, many more if you keep impressing him like you did today._

He nudges another volume in place. If, when Piers comes home, and sees the space all tidied up, and his precious books neatly organized... No, that's so stupid! Leon groans and mutters that to himself.

He slots the last book of his current haul into place and paces off to hunt more down. Organizing books shouldn't count as impressive. He's only doing this because he wants to do something nice for Piers. Not because he expects anything out of it.

Where to look next... Surely there's more hiding in plain sight.

A boom shocks Leon out of his skin. He sets down the book he just picked up and bolts upright, ready to run to the source, but stops when he sees the cause.

The front door is wide open and still swinging, and ducking through the doorway is one massive dragon with... Piers slung over his shoulder? Leon almost panics before he realizes his friend is very much alive and kicking.

"Coulda taken the bloody window!"

Raihan spots Leon standing there and throws a wink while adjusting his squirming quarry over his shoulder.

"Don't mind me, knight!" Raihan sharply slaps Piers on the ass and laughs at the yipe and increased struggling.

"Oh—You show off, I can walk the rest of the way!"

"Nuh-uh, you're saving your energy because I'm gonna use _all_ of it. Every bit!"

"You're full o' shite! Leon, you there? Tell him to put me down!"

He opens his mouth to come to Piers' aid, but the dragon bodily adjusts the man over his shoulder and sends Leon a sidelong grin.

"I'll put him down soon enough, don't you worry, knight. Up we go, babe!"

"No you don't, the last time you took those stairs—" Piers squawks at a swift pinch to the back of his thigh.

Raihan laughs and strides to the entrance of the tower's base, purposeful footsteps like thunder on the floor, and squeezes through the door on extremely-bent knees to prevent his cargo from hitting anything. The last things Leon sees are Piers' flushed grinning face and swinging hair and a flicker of Raihan's tail.

Echoes of indignance and laughter ring through the doorway and don't diminish until the two of them presumably make it to the top of the tower. It happened so quickly that Leon stands there in a daze long after they've passed. He can hear residual laughter every so often, and it's a random bestial growl that snaps him out of standing there.

He needs to finish hunting down and organizing all these books.

As he works, Piers and Raihan's voices continue to echo through the open tower door, too indistinct to make out any words. Sounds like they're having fun up there. It's been a while since they've hung out, hasn't it? It's nice to think of them getting some quality time. They love each other so much it's heartwarming even out of sight.

Leon finds another several books tucked away in various crannies of the kitchen. Two are cookbooks, he'll leave those where they are, but the third is a book on sewing techniques, that one can go on the shelf.

Another laugh, from Raihan. A chastisement from Piers...

A growl, that rings as clear as if the dragon were standing right behind him. It's cut short before it can build and is replaced by a cry of—surprise? Are they okay up there? What kind of things are they...

Moan. That was definitely a moan.

On second thought, the books can wait. Now's a perfect time to get some training in! Some familiar exercise routines sound wonderful right now, and he thinks he remembers the way to the river to wash off after that. It was just a straight line, right? Even he can't get lost walking in a straight line with nothing in his way.

A deeply-growled groan reverberates through the whole cottage, and Leon doesn't stick around to hear what might come next.

* * *

When Piers finally pulls off, it's with a full mouth and lungs that are aching for air. No matter how many times he's had Raihan in his mouth, he's surprised by how much the dragon can produce. He's gotten enough practice that he can swallow it all down if he's quick about it, at least there's that.

He swallows best he can and raggedly pants, mouth empty for the first time in what feels like hours. Thank the sleeping gods it wasn't really that long, his jaw would be useless if that were the case. It's aching enough as it is. He might have strong lungs and the ability to go without breathing for ages, but when there's active exertion involved, it's another story. Dragons are so bloody hard to please... especially when they happen to be in a more passive role. But he signed up for this and accomplished what he set out to accomplish, that's all that matters. He's quite happy with his success, and going by the dazed look on Raihan's face, he's not the only one.

After wiping Raihan's stomach clean of his own release, Piers crawls up onto the bed. There's enough daylight to clean them both up properly later. For now... gods, he has to catch his breath. Soon as Raihan makes enough room for him, he collapses and flops onto his back.

His exhausted groan flies up to the rafters, and that's Raihan's cue to snuggle up.

He's now got one very happy dragon at his side, one scaly leg thrown over his thighs, arm curled over his waist, face shoved into the side of his neck and breathing deeply in satisfaction. He doesn't have the energy to touch back. Raihan really meant what he said about using up every last bit of his energy, the bastard.

"You're amazing," Raihan purrs into his neck and draws them closer together. "Love your mouth. Love your cock."

Piers cracks his jaw, and turns his head to smirk tiredly at his lover. "And what of the rest of me?"

The affronted whine pressed into him makes him laugh even before his body is pulled impossibly close against a hard chest. "I love _all_ of you." Then, after a pause, "But the aforementioned parts have earned my special appreciation after they were so deliberately shown off and put to exquisite use. How's that."

Smiling's so easy around him. "Plenty. Love you too, Rai."

His dragon makes an affectionate sound high in his chest and noses against his cheek, then back down to his neck.

That leads into a quiet stretch of time, where their only concerns are laying wrapped up in each other and basking in each other's touch. Raihan's always extremely cuddly after sex, and Piers enjoys being cuddled. He doesn't mind the pressure and weight of the scaly giant one bit. It makes him feel safe, and not alone, even when his eyes are closed.

Raihan's been busy lately, away from dawn til far after dusk. Piers understands the importance of what he's doing, and he hasn't been truly lonely with Leon around, but he missed spending time with his dragon.

He's drawn out of his thoughts when the nuzzling at his neck turns into lipping, then nipping, then self-indulgent lapping at that one particular spot. Hot, wet, gentle. The glowing warmth in his body ebbs. Piers is careful, so careful, to keep all his physical tells the exact same as they were before Raihan started this.

"Thinkin' about it again?" He asks.

Raihan drags his tongue up once more before answering. "Of course. I dream about it."

The next lick snuffs out the rest of Piers' residual pleasure. His self-control cracks, and he slides the tip of his tongue along the edge of his teeth hard enough for the slight pain to clear his head the rest of the way.

"Sorry for not givin' it to you," he murmurs, giving a random wooden beam in the ceiling his full attention to take his mind off the seed of guilt trying to germinate in his chest.

"Don't apologize. I know you're not ready."

Raihan presses a firm kiss to that spot and lingers there, no doubt fantasizing about opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into it and trading spilled blood for magic and a bond. But he doesn't, because Piers isn't ready. Because Piers _says_ he isn't ready. Just the tip of the stone peeking above ground, the rest of its body rooted deep in the earth. So people can trip over it and curse over stumbling on such a tiny, little, trivial thing.

"Yeah," he whispers. "Not ready."

"I'll wait as long as you need."

Piers sighs, and turns his head, taking that spot away and replacing it with a smile not faked, because he can't feel anything but the ache of affection for the man wrapped around him. "I know you will."

Raihan, the sweetheart, gives him a peck on the lips and carefully withdraws his limbs and switches to laying on his stomach, partially on top of Piers and using his chest as a pillow, wing laid out over the rest of him to trap heat close. The weight is a welcome comfort. Piers' hand automatically rests on his lover's horned head, rubbing and scratching wherever his whims take him. It's not long before the dragon starts to sigh and rumble on top of him. _Not_ a purr, as Raihan's always insisted. Which it absolutely is.

He loves this man. How hard can it be to give him what he wants?

He blocks those thoughts before they can spin up into their usual spiral. This time should be for relaxing and cuddling, nothing else.

_And you'll put it off, and put it off, and put it off... Always making him wait._

But what can he do? Not vent his fears to the man they'd hurt the most. Hurting Raihan would be like breaking his own heart.

The answer that comes is so simple that Piers' brows lift.

He can talk to Leon. Leon, the straightforward thinker. Who's so eager to help and always at his side in an instant whenever he needs a hand. Kind and caring and not just because his fingerprints say so. It might really help to talk to him, and open up about more than just his homeland and its culture.

The things Leon learns might make him think lesser of Piers, but... if he lets these particular thoughts fester for much longer it won't end well. For his own sake, and more importantly for Raihan's sake, he'd better figure himself out soon. If that means letting Leon glimpse pieces of his heart, so be it. It's not like his friend would ever do anything malicious with what he learns. Piers has faith in him.

Funny how easy it is to trust Leon. Almost concerning. The amount of charisma the man has would be suspicious if he weren't so... himself. Not a shred of dishonesty to be found in the man. So unlike Piers. He's surrounded by damnably authentic sweethearts.

A claw taps his forehead.

"You gonna open up that chest and let me peek inside?"

Oh. Raihan probably heard his heart rate increase. No going back now.

"Doubt there's anything interesting in..." His brow furrows. "You mean a treasure chest or an anatomical one?"

"For you? Both work."

He can't help it. He laughs, and relaxes somewhat. "Clever, but still terrible."

"You love it when I'm terrible," Raihan teases, and he's absolutely right.

Piers will open up, then. Partially. Not enough to see into the corners now reserved for someone else's exploring, but enough to be honest to his partner.

"Was just thinkin' about Leon."

"Damn. Thinking about another man right after you fucked me? I thought I was the insatiable one."

"Wasn't thinkin' about him like that, you dirty-minded lout. But good to know you wouldn't be jealous if I was." He snorts and scratches the base of Raihan's horn, right where it joins his skull. The effect is immediate; Raihan groans and goes boneless on top of him save for how he twists his neck to chase more and more pressure from Piers' scratching.

"What's there to be jealous of? He's on my mind a lah—ahh, right there..." Raihan's eyes squeeze shut. "On my mind a lot, too."

Piers makes a noise of interest and twists his wrist to reach a new spot. "Go on..."

"Mm... Like how you two made friends so fast. Makes me happy that you're not lonely." The dragon rumbles and the sound presses right into Piers' whole body. "Love seeing you so happy. Leon does a good job."

Seeing Raihan so blissed out is making _him_ happy. He switches horns and smirks when the dragon tilts his head the opposite direction.

"I like seein' what he does to you, too. I've never seen you so fired up outside life-threatenin' situations. I'm glad you have someone you can be rougher with."

"And you like watching us get rough."

"That too," he cordially admits.

"I still say I'll beat him one of these days..." Raihan frowns for a moment before a chuckle wipes it away. "He's so skilled at those human fighting styles. Gives me something to work on. Gotta beat him at his own game."

Games... come to think of it, most of what Piers has been doing with his new housemate is more work than play. He should take a cue from Raihan and see about doing something fun with Leon too. Not anything physical, gods no. He's seen what those two are capable of. Something that's more of a strategy game, perhaps... They do have that mocked-up chess board. Surely the prince was taught how to play as part of his education.

"You have fun with your new rival." Piers withdraws his hand after one final rub, much to someone's visible disappointment. "As for me, I've been doing things with him rather than against him. You should try it, it's still fun."

The look Raihan gives him ruffles him more than he shows.

"...What."

"Anything in particular you wanna do _with_ him?" Fangs show through a smirk. "I guess I could ask if there's anything you'd like to do against him, too. You know."

He exactly knows. What concerns him is that Raihan knows too.

Piers' mind reaches down a dozen paths in an instant to process the combined problems of, one, where the hell that came from and, two, what the hell does Raihan mean by laying down such a blatant challenge.

There's no doubt that Raihan's noticed how fond he is of Leon already. And that Piers' eyes catch on the other's features every time they're in the same room. But since it was only looks, he didn't think Raihan would think anything of it, which was a foolish assumption to make. He shouldn't consider himself so knowledgeable of his partner that he can predict what the dragon will and won't think at any given time. Presumptuous. The worst thing to be is presumptuous. He knows this, yet here he is, going soft-minded just because he's content with life right now—

"Hey, hey, I didn't mean anything serious. I know you find him attractive, that's all. I think he's cute, too."

So... it was a hypothetical joke question? Barely a relief, when he reacted as though Raihan were completely serious... Silence can be an answer all of its own. More damning than anything vocal, in plenty of cases. Now he just has to come up with an answer that loses him the least amount of ground...

A hot hand lightly covers and grips his face. Piers blinks and peers through Raihan's splayed fingers at the concerned expression on the dragon's face. "You're still overthinking something. Talk to me, baby. Words do more good outside—"

"—than inside, I know." His words are muffled against a hot palm.

He patiently waits for the dragon to remove his hand, and once he does, Piers fixes his bangs and rubs at his nose. He'd preen more if he didn't know how useless it'd be to buy time. He already knows what he should say (key word being _should,_ because he doesn't _want_ to, but Raihan deserves nothing less than full uncensored honesty (which is difficult sometimes, because for all Piers considers himself to be good at words, the simplest things are often the hardest to say)), so there's nothing left to do but be rid of the admission.

Raihan waits for him to smooth his thoughts over. Takes a moment, but it's easy with the warmth and weight of his beloved pressing him down.

Alright. Five words, simple as it gets.

"...I do find him attractive."

"And?"

_Of course he wants more than that. You were wanting to talk with him about this anyways, weren't you? You just weren't expecting him to start it and now you're unprepared._

"And... I suppose I..." He sighs in frustration. Raihan's thumb finds the space between his brows and nudges it upwards. Piers retaliates by furrowing harder. "You're observant, why don't you tell me what you've been noticing and we can go from there."

The hand retreats. Raihan's face is nothing but neutral, his way of balancing the mood. "I know you like him a lot."

'Know,' not 'it seems like.' Raihan's on the offensive.

"I do."

"I know you want to get closer to him."

"So do y—"

"On more than polite and friendly terms."

_...Dammit._

"...If I were to say 'so do you' again, would it still hold up?"

Raihan smiles dryly and adjusts his wing. Cool air rushes under the space and Piers shivers until the leathery blanket settles close over him once more. "Can't say. Right now, when I look at Leon, what I see is friend and ally. Someone strong who can help protect you, who makes you happy. He's a beautiful human, and I wouldn't mind seeing more of what he can give, but right now, what satisfies me is that he can satisfy you."

Raihan makes speaking one's mind look so easy. Piers relaxes his neck to settle back on the pillow, and stares through the rafters once more. The conical roof diminishes to a dark point that he can barely see.

"You talk like your feelings might change in the future," he mumbles.

"Yeah," Raihan bluntly says. "Haven't yours? I know you want him, Piers."

Cornered, but he feels no stress. There's no blame or judgement in Raihan's tone, he's simply stating what he knows to be true. Setting a baseline for Piers to build from.

Raihan just wants to know what's on his mind. It's only a talk, nothing more, and it's his turn to speak. But what to say...

Piers nibbles his lip. This time, his thoughts don't bolt and branch like lightning seeking ground. They stay still and close thanks to Raihan pinning them down early on, placid in a way he's been desperate for.

"...You're right. Everything you said." He loosely wraps a hand around a horn and rubs the smooth bone with his thumb. "He's caught my attention the same way you did. I don't love you any less for it, I know you know."

Raihan presses a kiss to his chest. "I do know. You're still mine for as long as you want to be, and I'll always be yours. Leon can be yours, too. Anything you want is possible."

The little graph draws itself in his head. Incomplete. Not that every node must be tied to every other, but... there's one edge in particular whose absence begs for attention.

He licks his lips and fills in the missing, unstated connection. "What if I want to be Leon's? In addition to being yours. Do dragons share?"

Raihan falls silent. Out of sight, his tail curls along the furs in long, contemplative swishes. Now it's Piers' turn to wait, and if he were anywhere other than pinned beneath his partner he knows his heart rate would be climbing with every silent second.

"Dragons share when we work together. When two dragons are mated, they share territory and responsibility, and anything that belongs to one belongs to the other. But Leon and I are separate... It would feel like you're trying to decide which of us is better for you. Like you might contemplate leaving me."

Piers' eyes widen as his heart tightens. Leave him? He'd never... The thought would never once cross his mind!

The weight and heat increases as Raihan hunkers even lower on top of him, drawing his wing closer until there's hardly any part of Piers' body that isn't touching scales or skin. It's the most vulnerable he's seen his lover since long before Leon entered their lives.

"No, _mo gràdh_..." He pulls an arm free so he can cup the back of Raihan's head and hold him closer. "I'd never leave you, you know that... Let's step back from the dragon way of thinking, just for a bit. Hear my human heart."

Raihan relaxes as his head is stroked and petted, and soon he nods against Piers' chest, and twitches an ear to demonstrate that he's listening.

"I love you dearly. Me bein' fond of someone else too won't change that. All I mean by sayin' I'd be Leon's too is that I don't want anything lopsided here. You and I share mutual feelings. If I... In the case that I do something about wantin' to get closer to Leon, I'd hope for that to be mutual too. That's all there is."

Raihan's tail flicks against the bed once more, and goes still. "I understand... It was just unpleasant to think about Leon being competition. I know he's not."

"Aye, he's not. You might be an awful big beast that I love an awful lot, but there's room in my heart to comfortably add more without takin' anything away from you."

He slides his hand down and rubs small circles into the back of Raihan's neck. "And who knows. If you start likin' Leon the same way, wouldn't we all be sharin'? I certainly don't mind the idea. But that's not up to us in the end, it's all up to Leon to decide. I don't know if he'd even be interested in... in tryin' anythin' with me. All this talk we're havin' could turn out to be completely irrelevant," he sighs. "Nice to get it out, at least."

"What makes you think it could be irrelevant?" Raihan wiggles lower, allowing Piers to free his other arm. The dragon hugs around his middle while Piers settles both hands over his broad shoulders and rubs.

"I don't think I have the courage to approach him romantically. He came from somewhere unhealthy. Does he even have any experience...?" He wonders aloud.

"He doesn't. No one's had him before." Raihan's eyes fall closed under the effects of the massage. "He told me about it a while ago. Relationships of any kind were forbidden for him."

That's what Piers was afraid of... Leon having no point of reference for what's good or bad. Piers would strive to set a good example, of course, but the consequences of messing up or hurting Leon would be devastating. And that's if they even get that far.

He knows Raihan can sense his worry. This time he reveals it without having to be prodded.

"I'm scared of drivin' him away, Rai... What if I make him uncomfortable around me?" He pushes his hands lower, to press into Raihan's flight muscles. "What if he wants to leave because I said or did somethin' that was too much for him? This is supposed to be a safe place, his new home, I can't jeopardize that by makin' him feel like there's anythin' here to be afraid of. That he should avoid. Or... Or worse, what if he does somethin' he doesn't want to, just because he thinks I want it? He seems kind enough to do that, doesn't he? I don't want him to feel or _be_ manipulated by me, or ever be scared of me or you or either of our feelings, and..."

A rush of air whisks out of his lungs and carries a helpless sound right at the end. "I don't want to taint or ruin his new life. All I am is interested, I'm not about to jeopardize all these good things growin' because I'm curious what it'd be like to... to hold him or kiss him or..." He takes a breath to reset his line of thought. "It's not worth the risk to act. I don't want to push him away or scare him, Raihan..."

A smooth caress draws down his cheek. It soothes him more deeply than it should, this hand that's dealt such violent pain to others. "Oh, treasure of mine... Do you not see the way he looks at you?"

He stills. "...What?"

Raihan's eyes are bright, both in color and mood. "I think you're worrying a lot for nothing. You think he'd be opposed to being held or kissed? By _you?_ No, Piers," he laughs. "He'd love that."

A hot blush creeps over his face. "You—There's no way to know that for sure. Don't give me hope with your conjecture."

"Dragon instinct, it's never wrong." Raihan bats his eyelashes, only to be met with an unimpressed look. "...Alright, fine, I know because I asked."

Piers' heart leaps into his throat and knocks his voice just as high. "You what! When!"

"Remember when you made us get clean after our first time wrestling? And remember how you kissed him because he won the first round? Well, I asked him about it. He liked it. And he definitely wouldn't say no if you wanted to kiss him again. It was his first kiss, did you know that? It was only on the cheek, but he insisted that it counted." Raihan chuckles and crawls up to lay alongside him.

Leon's first... He gave Leon his first kiss. Then that means, the other day, when they came so close to kissing again, that would have been his first kiss on the lips. Is that why Leon pulled away at the last second? Nerves from lack of experience? The thought is so adorable that Piers can't stop a disbelieving noise coming loose.

"So you're sayin' that physical affection is on the board?"

"Uh, yeah. I touch him every time I see him and he doesn't mind it. From you I'm sure he'd love it, so why hold back?"

"I just told you, I don't want to put him off with my feelings."

"That shouldn't stop you from getting closer to him. You two have all the time in the world to get to know each other, I'll make sure of it. I'll keep this place safe for the both of you so you can figure each other out. There's nothing for you to be afraid of, Piers, not while I'm here supporting you."

Raihan cups his cheek and he gladly turns his head for a kiss that's eagerly given. A forked tongue sneaks past his lips and he relaxes on the furs, letting his dragon take the lead on this one, but he does play back by rolling his tongue against Raihan's as it probes deeper. Enough time's passed since he finished Raihan using his mouth that he doubts the dragon can taste himself through the kiss. Then again, Raihan's always touting the sharpness of his senses...

After one final, possessive push that threatens Piers' well-suppressed gag reflex, Raihan withdraws his tongue and gives his short-of-breath self a peck on the lips.

"So what are you gonna do after this, baby? March downstairs and lay one on him?"

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "As if I'm in any state to—"

Leon.

Downstairs.

_Leon was downstairs._

Horror overtakes him and his jaw drops. "He... He heard everythin', didn' he! Oh, gods, I didn' even think that he might—How could I forget that he was right there. Gods awaken 'n smite me down, I deserve it for this," he groans.

At his side, Raihan's only grinning and looking mighty pleased. Because he's a big show-off and that's why he chose to take the stairs instead of the window.

"If it's any consolation, I heard him leave the house a little after we got started. So he didn't hear _everything._ Just enough to know what we were doing."

Lovely. Absolutely wonderful. Piers rubs a hand down his face. "And he's not gonna hear any more if I have any say in this."

Raihan's entertained expression drops to finally match Piers' concern, albeit for a completely different reason, no doubt. "You don't mean we're gonna have less sex."

"'Course not," he huffs. "But whenever we fuck, we'll have to make sure Leon doesn't hear us again."

"You mean we have to be _quiet?_ That's just as bad!" Raihan whines. "Why would I want to suppress myself while I'm enjoying you?"

"Be a good sport, Rai, we've got someone else to think about now. We ain't alone here anymore."

"So... you're really gonna start being quiet just because Leon might hear?" Raihan aims an inappropriately mournful look up at him, pupils widened into impossible circles. He looks far too much like a kitten like this, if one disregards the scales and various pointy bits.

"Do not give me that look," he grumbles, face warm and resolve weakening. "You're actin' like it'll be impossible to have a good time without wailin' the bloody tower down."

Raihan searches his eyes, finds no sympathy, and smothers his face into Piers' shoulder with a groan of overblown misery. Piers tilts his head away to avoid being poked by those horns.

"Wailing the tower down is half the fun..."

"There, there," he drawls and pats the poor beast on the head. "We'll survive whatever changes we have to make. I'm sure Leon will thank us for bein' more mindful of his presence next time. I do plan on apologizin' whenever he comes back."

He hopes Leon doesn't stay out too long. It's the first time Leon's ventured into the territory by himself, and while the majority of it is safe, there's still a few spots he shouldn't wander without Piers or Raihan with him. They happen to be the spots Piers planned on showing him today, before he decided he wanted to get time in with Raihan instead. Well, surely Leon wouldn't wander that far.

...Would he?

He suddenly remembers the times Leon sheepishly asked to be pointed in the direction of the water well, despite being shown its location three times already. And the instance where the man got turned around on one of their walks back to the house.

Oh, dear.

"On second thought..." He bites his lip and tugs on a horn to get his dragon's attention. "Would you mind flying out and findin' him?"

"Really? You're asking me to fly after fucking me the way you did?" Raihan groans, but he's already pushing himself up.

"Please, love. I think our lad's got a bad sense o' direction. I could be wrong, but I'd rather confirm that once he's here instead of out by himself. I'm worried for him."

"I'll bring him home, don't worry." Raihan sets his legs on the floor and takes his time stretching, like always.

Without his living blanket, Piers shivers, and rolls out of bed himself to hunt down something to wear and fix his hair. He's not about to apologize to Leon looking like... well, like he just had sex.

"When you find him, feel free to get your own apology in. You were the one makin' the most noise."

"And whose fault was that?"

He throws Raihan's clothes at his chest. "Just get out there and bring him back. If it'll motivate you more, I promise I'll think about everythin' you said regardin' Leon in the meantime."

That has the dragon perking up and willingly getting dressed.

Raihan's in the window when Piers calls out to him, unable to let him leave without saying one final thing. "Rai, wait."

He rushes up and coaxes the dragon to turn with a light hand on his shoulder. He stands on his toes for a kiss, and lingers there to whisper. "Thank you. For everythin'."

For leaving to find Leon. For helping Piers sort out some of his feelings and be less scared of what might happen should he act on those feelings. For spending hours of time with him today when he could have ignored Piers' call and continued watching over the territory instead.

Raihan's expression gentles and he leans down for another kiss, this one slower, more indulgent. When they break apart, they stare into each other's eyes, and Raihan smiles, just as slow, and just as indulgent.

"It brings me joy to fulfill your desires. For you, I'd even bring down the sun." He caresses Piers' warm face and pulls away to face the open air. Piers steps back with a thudding heart to grant him the space to take off. "I'll be back with him in no time!"

Piers gives an unseen wave as Raihan leaps away from the window and spreads his wings to fly. It's quiet, now, save for his own footsteps as he approaches the opening. Raihan's already out of sight, no doubt spiraling as high as he can, but Piers leans out the window to try and spot him regardless.

Nothing but the wind and the open sky.

He draws back to finish getting dressed, Raihan's words refusing to leave his head as he hunts down each article of clothing. One thing comes back from their earlier conversation, and he pauses in the middle of picking up his shirt.

_Do you not see the way he looks at you?_

Piers sighs, thoughts now full of not one, but two special people. He definitely knows how Raihan looks at him, he sees it all the time. Leon...

He shakes his head at himself and hunts for a fresh shirt. For all he thinks himself to be observant, it looks like he'll have to start looking a little harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy Piers has a lot on his mind huh
> 
> This is the first chapter to contain all 3 POVs! According to my plot-map, that won't happen again for... geez, quite a while.
> 
> Next chapter: A midnight rendezvous...


	5. Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whewwww feels good to get this one out there! Some solid nzdn development in this one

The land is silver under the cold light of a high-risen moon. The loudest thing around is the gentle breeze casting waves across the meadow and its hills. Everything that should be asleep is sleeping, but here Leon is, defying that. Bedtime came and went without him and he and long abandoned his mission of trying to catch up. Instead, he leans on the wall near the open window in his bedroom, gazing out at the nightscape.

It's been many hours since the sun's light left the horizon, and even more hours since he was found by Raihan at a random section of the territory's magical border. And more hours still, since he ventured out of the house in the first place. To give his housemates privacy.

Because they were having sex.

_"Whoa, you made it really far out! You didn't wanna escape us that bad, did you?"_

_Raihan jogs up using leftover momentum from landing, waving and grinning and looking like he just had the most relaxing time of his life. Several marks, looking like bruises on the dragon's dark skin, dot the bare torso on the areas where there aren't any scales, and it's too hard for Leon to take his eyes off them once the dragon is in his face._

Leon rubs across his eyes to erase the vividness of the memory. It doesn't work, he can still recall everything with stillwater clarity.

Raihan had proceeded to give the most non-apologetic apology Leon's ever heard from someone not in politics, and swept him off his feet before the last word was out of his mouth. Leon was too shocked at being picked up to do more than stammer "It's alright," and then the dragon crouched, raised his wings into a sharp V, and leapt straight upward with a hard down-stroke to get them airborne and flying home.

He can still hear the wind in his ears. Still feel the solidity of two arms around him, one at his back and one under his legs. And he can still, no matter how much he tries to forget, remember what Raihan sounds like when he's moaning. He considers it a blessing that he didn't stick around long enough to potentially hear Piers in that state as well. Hard enough to deal with one of their voices already...

Leon sighs and rests his head against the wall. He wishes he managed to get a workout in, instead of spending his entire time outside completely lost. If he wore himself out then maybe he wouldn't be awake right now, thinking about any and everything he can that isn't blatantly inappropriate. He knows if he lets his thoughts stray too much in a particular direction he'll never get any sleep. On the other hand, if he were to just... give in, and let his imagination go where it wants to go... No, that'd be terrible of him. He refuses to lower himself to such... such debauched levels. Raihan and Piers are his friends. He can't intrude on their personal lives even in the privacy of his own fantasies, surely that's crossing a line...

The breeze picks up outside. A curl of it makes it through the window, carrying nighttime scents and ruffling Leon's hair like it wants him to come closer. His arms fold on the sill and he leans partially out to get a better look at the sky. No clouds, only stars and a moon he can't see from this side of the cottage.

Think proper thoughts.

He wonders what dragons call their constellations, if they have names for them at all. Àitesambith probably recognizes different star shapes than Rhondeland. To Leon, the night sky is filled with heroes and the beasts they vanquished to achieve glory. What's up there, when viewed through Piers' eyes?

Piers' eyes, deep like the sea, able to pin or pull with just a glance... He can picture Raihan moving in to answer that pull. Them holding each other. A dark, muscular body under pale hands, pulling, pushing...

Leon groans and pushes his bangs up. The breeze doesn't respond; it's died down, and to fill the void left behind, he begins to hum. It's a little rushed, a little anxious, but he only needs the distraction.

He only has confidence in a few notes. The rest vary, pulled out of nothing to finish a melody he only knows the beginning of. He can't name the song, nor say with full confidence where it came from, but the few notes he has are special in a way he keeps close to heart. It's something he barely remembers but knows he can never forget.

It's certainly the better music to focus on. Something in his own voice, and not Raihan's, or Piers'... Coming from Piers it would sound so pretty, though...

Leon's forehead meets his folded forearms.

 _Stop thinking about that! He may have already kissed you, but it crosses a line to think about him like... like_ that. _Goddess help me, nothing's working..._

He anguishes in the window for an indeterminate amount of time, getting absolutely nowhere. Which is, honestly, the best he can hope for right now. With his luck, he'll be awake until dawn. Sounds like a good strategy. Stay up all night, become exhausted, and pass out to a dreamless sleep.

...He prays his sleep will be dreamless.

"Knock knock," a quiet voice intrudes.

Leon startles and looks over his shoulder. He didn't hear anyone approach.

"Couldn't sleep either, eh?" Piers is cupping a candle flame, the warm glow of it wrapping around his pale hand and casting his face in sharp-angled shadow. It only lasts for a moment, because Piers blows it out to leave the ambient moonlight as the only source of illumination for the room.

"No..." He looks to his bed. The covers are slightly mussed from his short-lived attempts at getting rest. "Is Raihan awake?"

Piers chuckles. "No, he's dead to the world right now. He's got every right to be, but that snorin' of his is somethin' I'd rather not deal with at the moment."

There's a few things he could choose to respond to, but what he settles on is, "Raihan snores?"

"When he's particularly exhausted, aye," Piers says, amused. "Today wore him out."

He won't be allowed to forget about today's events, it seems. After this long, there's a certain appeal to giving up on that, too. Not while around Piers, Goddess no!

Okay, how can he move the topic back somewhere safe... Raihan, worn out... oh!

"Raihan did carry me back. When he found me, I mean. He flew back with me."

"Oh? And how was that?" Piers sidles into the room and sets the candle holder down onto the tiny dresser. The closer he gets, the easier he is to make out. It helps that he's so pale; it's like he was made to pair with the moon. Leon can see now that his hair is down, and that he's wearing a long cloak that hides most of his frame.

"It was... hard to pay attention to much in the moment," he admits. "I've never flown before. Not on something that wasn't trying to throw me off and kill me, I mean."

Because he was busy trying to kill them first. He nearly died once, leaping onto the back of a rogue winged beast that had the unexpected strength to fly with an armored human grappling it. He was lucky to crash into trees and not anything else. He still has the scar from that battle. Can't remember precisely which one it is, though.

"I see... Well, I can relate to the attention thing. For all Raihan loves flyin', I can hardly stand it. For you see..." Piers leans in with a barely-there curve of his lips. "I'm awfully scared o' great heights. Can't spare any mind for the joys of aerial freedom when lookin' at the ground makes me insides wanna become outsides."

A few locks of long hair slip over Piers' shoulder and twirl over the ground.

"I, uh... never would have guessed you were scared of heights. Does Raihan avoid flying with you then?"

"No, I can tolerate it. I just close me eyes and trust he won't drop me and that makes it tolerable. I much prefer bein' on the ground and usin' me own two feet to get around." Piers straightens up and tucks his hair behind an ear. "Speakin' of, I was plannin' on takin' a walk to clear my head. Would you feel like comin' with me?"

A walk does sound more productive than waiting for sleep to find him. And he'll get to spend time with Piers, that's a bonus, too. It's probably risky to take a stroll alongside the man who's half the cause for his sleepless night, but Leon can't bring himself to care. Even without those reasons and reservations he'd still accompany his friend. He can't let the frail-looking man wander the night by himself, it wouldn't be right.

"That sounds lovely," he says with a nod. "Give me a moment."

Piers watches as he dons his boots. It's not so cold that he'll need to put on anything else, but he does fetch his scabbard from the corner of the room, and wraps the belt around his hip.

"I don't think the sword is necessary. You can leave that thing behind."

His hands slow in threading a strap through its buckle. "I know. But if I want to be a good escort I shouldn't be unarmed."

A light sigh hurries his hands. "And here I thought you wanted to come for the company."

He rushes to finish securing his sword, fearing that he upset his friend. "I do. I'd love to walk with you because it's you. I didn't mean to imply otherwise, sorry."

He turns around, ready to go, and can only see long bangs instead of a face. Piers quietly clears his throat into his hand.

"...S'ppose I won't say no to havin' a nation's champion be my guard either way. Shall we?"

\- - -

The walk was supposed to clear his head, but Leon didn't count on how distracting it would be to have someone walking at his side. Not just any random 'someone.' Leon would be more able to relax if it were a stranger.

Wrapped in a dark cloak that sways in the breeze, Piers looks all the world like a wandering phantom. His silent footsteps don't help, either. Leon feels like he's existing too loudly in comparison, aware of even his own breathing and trying to silence himself to do his companion justice.

The path Piers takes them on is unfamiliar. Or maybe it is familiar, and he just doesn't recognize it at night. Not that he'd be good at recognizing it in broad daylight, either.

"Sorry again about earlier. I know we both already apologized, but... I'm still quite embarrassed that you heard us," Piers says. "We'll be more careful next time."

Next time. The next time they're intimate... Wrapped up in each other, making each other moan again...

"I-It's alright! You have every right to, ah..." Leon clears his throat, hunts for the best phrasing. "Do as you please with your partner. It's your home, after all, I'd hate to make you self-conscious in your own home."

"Kind of you to say so, but this is your home too, remember. I'd hate to make _you_ feel unwelcome under your own roof," Piers counters, and oh, that's right...

Leon's lived here long enough that a lot of the feeling of being a temporary stranger has faded somewhat. He's not just a guest, and doesn't feel like it anymore after all the time that's passed with his housemates being nothing but welcoming and happy to have him. By now, he even thinks of the house as 'home' whenever they're out and it's time to return, but he always lets Piers do the voicing of it.

Shouldn't it be about time that he starts voicing it, too? Piers would like if he did, right?

"Actually..."

"Yes?" Quiet, encouraging.

"It... would be nice to get an advance warning. If that's alright," he can't stop himself from adding.

"More than alright. You've every right to ask that of us and we're more than happy to oblige." A hand rests his shoulder. "Feel free to voice any other boundaries you need. You ask far too little of us, you know."

The hand pats once and slides away.

They're in the meadow, now, with its taller grass and sleeping flowers. A sea of feathery silver, stretching on to the edge of the forest in the distance. Piers strides ahead, and for some reason, the urge to take point and act as advance guard doesn't come. He may be starting to think of this place as home, but he's not the one who's truly established here, who knows the land and all its details and fits so well into the scenery it might as well have been painted just to frame him.

The meadow parts for Piers' passing and closes right behind him. Pale hands skim along the tops of the grass and cause them to sway under an influence other than the breeze's. The tips of his hair catch on the thin blades, and it's that subtle drag of black and white over moon-bleached green that Leon chases.

Out here, it's much louder. The wind has more to play with, and rustles all around them, catching in Leon's hair and sending Piers' twisting and dancing in front of him, just out of arm's reach, if he were to reach out. Piers seems to be aiming for the trees, and walks without looking behind him, leaving Leon to act as his shadow.

Now his head's finally starting to clear. The scene is something out of a dream, but the cool air in his lungs and the tickle of grass around him is a consistent reminder that all this is real.

Empty space opens up at his side. It's black. Burned. Piers barely glances at it, and it's the worry of losing pace that keeps Leon from slowing down. But he does turn his head to look. Under the effect of the moonlight, the new growth he knows is poking through the charred grass is impossible to see. There's only black, and only white, where the bones are.

"Poor bloke, that was." Piers sighs as they pass the remains. "Stark ravin' mad, too. Came chargin' up screamin' about the 'cursed beast' needin' to die. Don't think he knew I existed, but Rai still blasted the bastard. He was in a bad mood."

"A bad mood from what?" He's never seen the dragon look angry outside the very first time they met. Raihan's smiled so much since that day that it's hard to remember what the dragon looks like when enraged.

Piers hums thoughtfully and changes direction slightly. "You know, I can hardly remember."

Leon glances back the way they came. The tower is barely visible, only the tip of the roof peeking darkly around the edge of the hill it hides behind. Ahead of them, the trees loom, and shadow themselves just as dark beyond their frontal facade of moon-hit brightness. Piers angles their stroll to take them alongside the forest, with the grass low enough they don't have to wade through it anymore. Leon puts himself between Piers and the trees, and a few minutes later, it hits him.

They're truly alone out here. Raihan's asleep, snoring away, and there's no other people around except for Piers and himself. If they were to talk about anything in particular, regarding... just the two of them, now would be the perfect time.

Leon licks his lips and glances into the wood on his left. What could he say? What's there to talk about? He rests a hand on his sword, the cold metal of the pommel a familiar pressure against his palm.

He needs to figure out his goal first. Once he has a goal, he can strategize the most efficient way to reach it. That usual tactic may not work here, since he's never had to strategize around something as vague as navigating interpersonal relationships before, but he's determined to give it a shot. He was notoriously terrible at it in Rhondeland, and it gave Rose no small amount of grief that his son was so bad at figuring out the intricacies of gossip and balancing one's social network. He remembers some of the lessons his tutors tried to impress upon him, but none of it ever sunk in beyond an ability to parrot the lessons back when asked what he learned.

Applying battle tactics shouldn't be so bad. It's much more familiar and comfortable, so he's guaranteed better success to frame the challenge in this way. There's a hurdle to overcome, a goal to reach, and a reward for victory, especially for a swift and precise one. He just... needs to figure out what all those things are. The hurdle, the goal, the reward.

He wants to get closer to Piers, he knows that much. He can make that his goal, but it's not specific enough to satisfy him. They're already friends, after all.

He wants... to kiss him, that could be a goal. But that feels so childish to chase. And there's no obstacle to that happening beyond his own hesitations. Piers already demonstrated, twice, that he doesn't mind kissing.

Leon firms up his grip on his sword. There's _something_ that he wants, he knows it, feels it, but he can't formulate exactly what it is his subconscious is yearning for. All he knows is it has to do with Piers.

A sharp screech snaps him to face the trees, sword drawn, arm out to protect his companion from... an owl? Oh. Just a bird. It really sounded like a scream.

Leon relaxes, turning to express his relief and pausing when he realizes how far away Piers is. He must have been spooked by the bird. Except Piers isn't looking at where the bird came from. His eyes are on drawn metal, and express something Leon's never seen before, not from him.

Wariness. Caution.

(Fear?)

Leon closes his mouth and slowly lowers the blade, and some part of his soul quivers when he confirms that Piers' attention and caution really is aimed at the sword.

He self-consciously sheathes his blade. Piers relaxes once his hand is off of it.

They start walking side by side once more, albeit much more slowly.

If Piers happened to be on the same side that his scabbard hangs from, would he still be keeping a distance, is the thought that lingers as a whisper in his ear.

All thoughts of goals and victories have fled his mind. There's only worry that eats at the inside of his chest. Piers didn't—doesn't—like the weapon hanging at his side. That's why Piers wanted him to leave it behind on their walk... And he remembers now, on the very first day they met, when Piers told him to get rid of his armor to use as evidence of his death, he wanted him to throw the sword away, too. Raihan said he could keep it, but Piers still... Why did he never connect the dots until just now?

The weight at his hip is suddenly no longer comforting. It's heavier than it ever was now that it bears the weight of making someone Leon cares about uncomfortable. It's not something he can easily deal with, because what's he supposed to do, throw it away? He can't do that...

At his other side, Piers mumbles. "Didn' mean to step that far back. Sorry."

The full scabbard swings against his thigh with each step, insisting, reminding. Leon rests a hand on the hilt to still it.

"It's alright. I understand."

"Do you?" Piers asks.

That question doesn't sit right with him. Piers doesn't like the sword, that's it, right? Unless...

Leon halts, and so does Piers. The breeze carries past them, not caring that they're no longer keeping pace.

It might not be the weapon at all. It might be him who wields it. Because what's a sword without the person holding it? Just a sharp piece of metal. Useless without a master to hold it, point it, cut and stab with it. Meaning that... Piers was more frightened of _him._ Of what he'd do with it.

Leon's stomach drops, and he takes his hand off the sheathed weapon. "I... I think so. Yeah."

Piers glances around and takes a stiff step closer, and hesitates before resting a hand on his shoulder. The left one. The one that isn't of his sword arm's. "I didn't mean to make you think I was frightened, if you thought that."

"Weren't you?" He weakly challenges. Then, because he wants to cling to some hope that he's wrong about everything, "Not of me, right?"

"What? No!" Piers wilts and his hand slides down Leon's arm to take his hand, his non-sword-wielding hand. "It's not you, never you. It's your sword, that's all..."

Oh. Oh, that's a relief, he really was wrong.

"I just... don't like tools made only for killing," Piers elaborates, and comforting, the words are not.

Tools made only for killing. Rhondeland's champion. Rose's personal sword. Something to be given a directive and sent out to kill, to win, to achieve victory as swiftly and cleanly as possible. The king's favorite weapon, forged young and tempered over time until he developed the split mindset necessary to slit throats and still be able to smile at the public when the dirty work was done.

Leon's chest tightens and he tugs his hand free, unable to look his friend in the eye.

It comes as a whisper. "Like... like me?"

A sharp breath, a lurch back. "I spoke thoughtlessly. Forgive me. I've never once thought of you like that."

He shrugs a heavy shoulder, unable to express a reassurance he wouldn't truly mean.

Piers fidgets where he stands. "Leon... You're not a tool meant for takin' lives. You're not a sword. It's not the same thing."

It's absolutely the same. Piers doesn't understand. Raihan would, Raihan's seen him dressed in full intent to kill, still calls him "knight." Raihan's never forgotten, while Piers has yet to see what Rhondeland's champion is truly capable of.

He's thankful now, that it was just a bird.

Leon rubs his hand down his face. Every callus he earned from swinging his sword chafes against his skin. "It is the same. I've told you before what Rhondeland made me to be. I- I understand if you don't like what I—"

Piers grabs his hand as soon as it leaves his chin.

"Oi. I don't quite care what those people in your country intended for you," he heatedly says. "You are not a weapon. Not remotely close. If you want one solid difference between you and that thing on your hip, that sword ain't somethin' I would miss if it were gone. If you want my full honesty, I wish you'd gotten rid of it along with your armor. I don't like what it represents and I don't like that you still hang on to it. You're not Rhondeland's knight anymore. You're not their weapon, you're free of that, you don't need it!"

Leon pulls his hand free once more, takes a step back, and lets the rustling silence of nighttime fill his ears.

The idea of disposing of his sword—burying it, tossing it into the river, asking Raihan to break it, anything—is rejected so strongly by his instincts he almost hunches over. Piers might like to see it gone, but it's everything Leon is. His skills, his talents, his training, his fate, all of it ties right back to his ability to use a sword—his ability to kill. He might not like taking lives, might not like how much blood has been spilled on his blade, but he can't get rid of it.

He's free to decide how to use it, thanks to his friends, and he swears to put it to better use than it was when guided by Rose's will. There are things Leon wants to protect now, and he can better achieve that with his sword in his hand. He can better support Raihan and fight by his side with a weapon that can match a dragon's teeth and talons. With it, he can better protect Piers.

He isn't defenseless without his weapon, but with it, he's stronger, and he wants all his strength available to him if the need to fight ever arises. Raihan might be strong enough to deal with every worldly danger there is, but it isn't right to rely solely on him. Maybe it's pride, maybe it's selfishness, but Leon wants his own power to defend what he cares about. He wants to be just as capable of keeping Piers safe as Raihan is. The dragon outright stated that that's one of Leon's purposes here. He can't let either of them down.

The cost of it might be Piers' fear or hatred, but... but as long as he's safe, Leon can live with that. He'll have to.

Leon rests his hand on the belt supporting his scabbard, sets his jaw, and closes his eyes. "I understand that you don't like it, but... it's still a big part of what—of _who_ I am. It—kind of hurts that you want it gone. If it were anything else, I swear I'd find a way to destroy it, I'd do that for you. But this? I can't throw this away. Especially not when..." His voice loses its rigidity and so does his posture. "When it's something I need to protect you. Like Raihan can."

His insides are cold, convoluted. He hates denying Piers anything, but he has no choice here. What if that hatred or resentment comes early? It's just a sword, can he really place its value over what he has with Piers?

Which is more important—Piers' love or Piers' life?

A cool touch covers both his cheeks. He looks up, lips parted, but says nothing in the pale face of understanding that's so close to him, inches away.

"I'm sorry... I didn't realize... "

Leon stumbles back, retreating from Piers' touch a third time, but this time, he can see Piers' face as he does it, and witnesses another expression he's never seen on his friend before.

Hurt. He's hurt.

They're—They're both hurt right now, but forget about himself, Piers is more...

Leon moves without thinking. His arms wrap around a thin frame and pull until their bodies are flush. Piers' hair tickles his arms but he doesn't budge, only squeezes harder when the hug is slowly returned by two arms leaving the shelter of a cloak to wind around his back.

He doesn't know what he's doing. All he knows is he made Piers look like that without even touching his sword. He doesn't have any words to make this better in the way Piers wants to hear. He could try explaining himself... It never worked with Rose _("I don't want to hear your justifications, Leon. I only want your results.")_ but Piers isn't Rose. Piers isn't Rose.

"I'm not in Rhondeland anymore, but I'm still a warrior. It's who I am, and I... I just want to be able to protect you. I can't ever hold back if your safety's at risk."

"I know, Leon, I do," Piers soothes. His voice is all the sweeter for how close and personal it is. "I'm sorry for makin' this a mess when it didn't have to be. I didn't realize that dislikin' your sword was the same as dislikin' Raihan's teeth."

The arms around him are steady as they hold him, and he swears he can feel stray pieces of himself, pieces he didn't realize were out of place, sliding and slotting back to where they should be.

The words fall out on their own. "Do you ever fear Raihan? For the things he's done?"

"That's like askin' if I fear you."

Leon's heart lurches, knocked unsteady by the straightforward observation. Piers doesn't say anything after that, meaning... he wants Leon to draw his own conclusion.

(Meaning there's a right and a wrong answer. Something Piers wants to hear, and something he doesn't. Wrong answers always lead to disappointment, and he can't disappoint Piers, but he needs to put that possibility out of his mind, because this familiar anxiety deserves none of his attention right now and _Piers isn't Rose_.)

Leon loosens his tight hold, but a squeeze from Piers has him firming his arms back up. Piers steps even closer, tucking his head into the space between his neck and shoulder, and Leon's hand works its way up beneath Piers' hair to cup the back of his neck. The chain of the locket presses into his palm.

"And... you don't," he hesitantly fills in.

Piers nods against his neck, and Leon relaxes. He gave the right answer, and it's the balm he needed. "I don't. Both of you can be scary, I'm sure, but I don't fear either of you. Got no reason to."

He confesses into the soft hair tickling his face. "I've done a lot of things you would hate to see. I... I don't know what I'd do if you saw something that made you fear me."

"Raihan would have you beaten there," Piers quietly counters. "He's done many a terrible thing. Had plenty of them happen within arm's reach. But he did those things because he thought he had no choice. I'd never hold any of it against him, and I won't hold it against you either. You're both warriors and I recognize that. I don't fear the fangs or bloody hands of either of you."

With a small nuzzle into the side of his neck, the tension finally leaves him. Piers pushes his hair out of the way and rubs down his back in slow passes. The minutes slip by just as easily as the fresh breeze around them. Leon can't spare the mind to track time passing—doesn't want to, either. He's only focused on the now. Holding, and being held...

Piers smells so good. It might just be his hair, or maybe it's all of him, Leon can't tell. Whatever it is, he wants to memorize it. Who knows when the next time he can have this will be.

Eventually, something compels him to speak again.

"I don't have the right tools to care for the blade long-term. It'll start rusting eventually."

Piers leans harder against him, nuzzles again, murmurs against his skin. "Tell us what you need, and we'll find it for you."

"Wouldn't you rather it rust away?"

He feels more than sees Piers shake his head. "If it's part of you, I want you to take care of it. I'll help you take care of it."

Piers loosens and lowers his arms, and steps back, and Leon mirrors him, not feeling lacking after how long they were wrapped around each other. That was the most incredible thing he's ever felt. It makes the one kiss he got feel like nothing. He'd trade kisses for hugs any day now that he knows what a real embrace can feel like.

"I'm not feelin' like headin' back yet. Let's sit down, over there." A pale arm extends from the cloak and points at a smaller hill within the meadow. It looks the same as all the others in Leon's eyes. "A rest sounds good for us."

Anything that gives him more time with Piers sounds good. He follows close behind as Piers walks, striving to not lose the warmth lingering around him.

* * *

Without walking to keep him warm, the cool air breaches Piers' cloak and robs him of the little body heat he's able to retain at any given time. Leon looks perfectly fine despite only being in nightclothes. Makes sense, given how hot his body runs. That hug was better at staving off the night's chill than his thick cloak is capable of.

The two of them are reclined on the gentle slope of the hill, their view of the sky framed by the grass swaying above them. Not a cloud in sight, just them and the stars and the cool earth beneath.

Piers much prefers the dark to the sunshine. In Àitesambith, the sun was a rarely-seen thing. Here it shines near daily. So bright, so hot, and getting more intense every day in a way Piers will have to adapt to, lest he suffer all summer. At least the sun always sets. Nighttime brings comforts that are hard to find elsewhere.

And gods, does he need it right now. He wasn't expecting to have such a complex discussion about the sword. It almost got out of hand for them both. He feels residual awfulness over his shortsightedness on the matter. At least Leon feels better. They both do, after an embrace like that.

Piers felt bad drawing away. Leon needed that hug something fierce. The way he was held so tightly, so securely... Raihan's hugs are hard and tend to be either too gentle or too forceful without much middle ground, but Leon's was perfectly strong and soft all at once, encompassing his whole body with those powerful arms.

It felt criminal to end it. He had to, there's still something he wants to talk about and he'd rather not do it standing up. Perhaps it should wait until later, since they've already had a heavy moment tonight, but if he lets this wait for much longer, he might lose resolve. It has to be now. Just think of it as keeping the streak going. So far they've been doing well at getting to know each other, minor bumps aside...

He glances at his companion. Leon's eyes are wide open, aimed at the sky, hands laced behind his head. The sword rests on the grass on Leon's other side, removed to make lying down more comfortable. He looks quite happy with life at the moment. Too serene a scene to disturb.

And yet, here goes.

Piers stares aimlessly at the stars and primes his voice to speak in a smooth hush.

"There's... somethin' else I wanted to talk to you about. Or no," he grapples, "I should rephrase. There's somethin' I'd like to confide. And maybe you could help me with it. But I know it's late. If it'd be too much for tonight, I understand."

Grass shifts as Leon's head turns. "Of course it's not too much. I'll help you no matter what time it is, what's on your mind?"

He would not have minded if Leon asked him to put this off. He could spin up something else on the spot. Make up a problem, make up a secret that Leon would be happy to be trusted with, and the man would be none the wiser. But Piers told himself he'd bring this one specific thing to Leon. There'll be no sidestepping or backing out. Just arrow-straight honesty.

...Or he can start with a leading question. That's good too. Arrows bend a bit as they fly and still hit the mark.

"Has Raihan ever... talked to you about what it means to be a dragon's mate?"

"Oh... No... I assume it's not the same as a regular relationship if you're bringing it up like this."

Precisely correct. He fixes his eyes on a random star.

"It's not. It's somethin' more complicated. I can't speak with firsthand knowledge, I only know what Raihan's told me about it. Him and I aren't mated, if you didn't know that already."

"You're not?" The surprise in Leon's voice has him wincing at the stars. "I would have thought you were, given how close you two are."

"Y-Yeah, one would figure..."

"Mating must be a big deal, then, for you not to have done it yet," Leon says, accepting the logic without fuss.

Piers shifts on the grass, pretending to adjust his cloak for extra warmth. "Yeah. It is a big deal. Very complicated stuff. Gettin' together more official than we already are... doubt it's somethin' we can even do."

Excuses, excuses.

"Uhm... Sorry if this is an ignorant question, but, why not?"

Piers waves a hand. "Er... y'know... interspecies barriers... Can't exactly marry a dragon, nor can a dragon mate a human the same way they would another of their kind."

"But what's stopping either of those things from happening?"

The simplicity of the question begs for an equally simple answer. If only it were that easy. Gods, it's like pulling teeth. His own teeth. But he needs this, needs them out, because left in too long they'll rot and spoil more than themselves.

"Well..." He hesitates. "I suppose there's nothin' stoppin' us from bein' wed the human way, it's true, but... it feels wrong somehow. To make somethin' as great and noble as a dragon adhere to a human tradition. It doesn't feel like enough. Like tryin' to tie a string round a firebird's neck and call it yours. It just can't do him justice. And who'd even officiate somethin' like that?"

He can sense Leon waiting for the other half of the explanation. Thinking about this always makes Piers uncomfortable under the collar, but he resolved to open up more to Leon, and what better person does he have to talk about these things?

"As for dragon mateship..."

He worries the inside of his lip. He's turned these thoughts over in his mind countless times, but putting them to words... There's something frightening about it. Like once the thoughts are past his lips, they'll become either trivial or even more terrible than they are in his head.

The grass rustles, and there's a warm touch on his hand. It's barely there, and unsteady, like Leon isn't sure if he's allowed, but it's exactly what Piers needs right now. He nudges against the shy fingers, and focuses back on speaking when they slide more confidently over his hand. Comforting, warm. Grounding. He can do this.

"Dragons... The way they bind to each other is... it's strong magic, it is. Something specific to dragons. For one thing, we don't know if it would work on a human. And magic doesn't have the same sway over me as it does most others. Even the territory's border doesn't bother me, I can walk right through it and barely notice. So even if it was possible for a dragon to give a human a mate-bond, it may not work on me."

It was that fairy blessing he received as a child. The blessing that saved him from at least three separate assassination attempts and gotten him out of trouble others would have gotten hurt or died from might be the curse that stops the one he loves from forming his ideal union.

_Stop that, you know Rai doesn't like it when you use that word. Ideal._

"You could still try," Leon offers, warm hand squeezing over his own. "I've seen him work his magic, I know he's powerful. He might be able to overcome your resistance."

They're quickly cornering the core issue and Piers gets more antsy the closer they go. He should have kept them walking instead of choosing to stop and lay themselves down.

"I know it's worth a try, I just... Here's the thing, alright."

"I'm listening."

Piers' heartbeat quickens and he shivers when the wind blows over them.

"Dragon bonds are one-way." Silence. Another shiver, more violent this time. "If Raihan were mated to another dragon, they could exchange the ritual. But for me, I'm only human, I can't do that. It'd be one-sided, and the things the bond does, the purpose of the magic, I just... I don't even know if it's what I want. Not if it's so one-sided."

His voice nearly cracks at the end. It doesn't, but the near-miss still exposes something vulnerable in him that Piers vehemently rejects. But Leon, the sweet, caring man that he is, only scoots closer.

His instinct is to draw away and compose himself, but he doesn't have the heart to deny the offered proximity. He's got no good reason too, either. They've already hugged and had a heart-to-heart not an hour ago, for gods' sake, and there's no point in defending his pride from someone to whom it doesn't matter. So he stays right where he is. Piers turns his forearm, opens his hand beneath Leon's, and clasps them together, palm to calloused palm.

His hand is immediately squeezed. "One-sided sounds... not good. Does Raihan know about your reservations? That you don't want the bond like that?"

Leon didn't mean to sting, but his words do regardless.

"It's not that I don't want it. I'd like if I did, even if it's one-sided. The closest truth I have is that I'm not ready. I... I don't know if I don't want it at all. But he's _mo chridhe_ , my heart... Why would I not be willin' to give him my everything?"

_I'd love it so much, Piers. Knowing where I can find you, being able to fly to your side whenever you think of needing me, feeling your love even when we're apart... If you would trust yourself to me in that way, I'd never want for anything ever again._

Leon shifts closer once more. Their arms press against each other, and the warrior's body heat easily seeps through Piers' cloak. It's not enough to stop him from feeling the cold.

"The magic runs deep," he mutters. "Deeper than what most spells can weave into a person. If Raihan were to make me his in the way only a dragon can..."

His voice wavers, and he swallows to force it steady.

"It... It'd feel too much like bein' tracked. He'd have a connection to me at all times. And I can't stand the idea." The admission feels like poison on his tongue. "I know it's only Raihan, I _know_ he doesn't mean for the bond to feel like a leash, but to me, that's what it sounds like. He'd be able to find me anywhere, know when I'm hurt, and since he's a dragon he'd be able to hunt me down and find me no matter where I was."

His heart twists and he gladly accepts the hurt. He feels like a traitor to his _leannan_ for having those thoughts. Why would he ever want to run away to a place where Raihan couldn't find him? If he was hurting, wouldn't he always want his lover near?

If it weren't for his damn paranoia, or his deep-cut wounds that healed, yes, but are still marked by ragged scars, then he and Raihan could be paired up already in the way Raihan wants. Hah, paired. Like it could really be called that when Piers isn't capable of returning the magic and making things equal.

If only it were possible to snuff and re-light the bond whenever he wanted, to get his privacy and independence back whenever he needed it. But that would be the same as heartbreak. The mate-bond lasts as long as the love does, meaning it would functionally be permanent, as undying as the feelings Piers doesn't need magical confirmation to know will last.

Why need a bond at all, if they both know their feelings will last... Oh, right, because to Raihan it'd be the best, most precious gift Piers could ever give. So precious that he's willing to wait and wait and wait forever for Piers to be ready, thinking that all Piers needs is time when in reality his poor human hasn't come to terms with the very concept of the mate-bond itself.

Piers sighs, and shudders, weary for a reason that has nothing to do with the late hour.

"I spent a long time locked away by someone who always wanted to know where I was. Who took comfort in knowin' they could always find me. Visit whenever it pleased him... I know Raihan is different, but..."

He hates so much that there's a _but._

"But it feels similar enough that you can't be comfortable with it," Leon finishes. "Even if it comes from someone you know means you no harm."

The truth rings straight down to the marrow. It hurts, but with the pain comes relief.

"Yeah," he says, barely more than a breath. "'S right."

He doesn't realize how tightly he's clutching Leon's hand until a rough thumb smooths over his skin. He loosens his grip marginally; it's all he can manage.

"From what I've heard, I can understand why you haven't let Raihan mate you. That kind of connection sounds scary."

Scary... Such a simple, all-encompassing word. He chuckles airily, without humor, and loosens his hand another smidge.

"Scary to me, but to him it'd be the most wonderful thing in the world." His voice nearly cracks again. He has to drop vocals from his words, retreating back into whispers. "I feel awful for denyin' him that... He'd be so happy if I told him I was ready to try."

Leon keeps stroking with his thumb. "I don't think he'd be happy if he knew you were scared. I think he'd only be happy about it if you felt the same way he did."

"I wish I was happy with it, though. I don't want to upset him. I want to give him everythin' I can."

"You have, Piers. I haven't known you two for very long, but I can see how much you two love each other. He's given you a lot, and you've given him a lot right back. I don't think anyone could say you aren't giving each other enough."

"But why stop at enough when I could be doin' more?"

"What bad would occur if you didn't?" Leon parries. Piers doesn't strike back, and he asks more gently, "Just how long has this been eating at you?"

His throat tries to close. He manages to choke a response out before that happens. "Months. Since mid-winter."

Back when Raihan first brought up the idea, cautiously at first, then excitedly, passionately, when Piers expressed interest in it. He was interested, before Raihan listed some of those damning details that to him were boons, but to Piers were, are, shackles. He had just gotten freedom thanks to the dragon, and then the beast turned around and asked him to step nicely into another cage. One made of love, that wouldn't ever stop him from going where he pleased, or doing what he wanted, but regardless of intent or purpose, the mate-bond is still a cage to a man who's had enough of cages. He feels sick that he thinks of it that way.

The damning tremble of his hand does not go unnoticed. Leon takes a breath, probably intending to soothe, but Piers cuts it off before he can say a word.

"I'm fine," he forces. Clears his throat. "It'll be fine. Just talkin' about it already helps."

"...Am I really the person you should be talking to about this? I can give you suggestions on what I think is best, but in the end, you'll have to tell Raihan what's on your mind..."

No. No, he can't, can't tell Raihan, that's why he's here with Leon in the first place. Telling Raihan would break the dragon's heart, Piers can't do that to him. Doesn't Leon understand?

"I won't have to tell him a thing if I can fix meself first," he whispers, harsh around the edges.

"But you're not broken," Leon says, tone urgent and pleading. "This is just my opinion, but it's completely understandable why you don't want it. I really think that he would understand. I think Raihan would only be happy about mating you if you were happy about it too."

"Then how can I make myself be happy with it? That's the problem, Leon, the problem's with me and me own stupid worries. I know Raihan doesn't mean to make me feel trapped, I just need to make my stupid brain catch up and feel the same way. If I could just learn to be comfortable with him always havin' an eye on me magically, I'd be able to say yes and then we could give it a try, and who knows if it would even work? It could fail, and all this would have been for nothing, but if it did work, then he'd be happy, and as long as Raihan's happy it'll all be worth—"

"Piers! Piers, stop, please." Leon pries their hands apart and cups his cheek, turning his head and patting until their eyes meet. "You're going too fast. Please slow down."

Leon's eyes are the one thing the moon hasn't robbed the color from. They're warm little fires, embers holding strong in the endless plane of black and silver around them.

"I..." He's only now aware of how hard his heart is beating. "Sorry. I didn' mean to. Bad habit o' mine..."

Bit late to wish Leon didn't see him like that. Going by the warm hand still on his face, the other prince doesn't think badly of him for it...

"It's okay." Leon smooths over his cheek and shifts closer. "I'll keep it in mind from now on. Is it okay if we step back for a bit? You said something that caught my attention."

He only nods. Leon smiles and lays back once more. This time, when their hands come together, Leon laces their fingers together. It's quite intimate, the boldest he's ever been regarding touch. Piers wants to lift their hands to get a good look, see how their fingers look in alternation, but now really isn't the time.

"Here's what I think... You two love each other and are already happy, right?"

He forces an exhale that shudders on its way out. "Yes, but..."

Leon gives him a squeeze. "I only need the yes or no. Now... being Raihan's mate wouldn't make you happy, right?"

"I want it to. Leon, I don't see where—"

"Shh..."

Did he just...?

_What?_

Piers' mouth opens and closes uselessly until he grasps for the answer that'll move this forward. Bare, ugly confirmations. "I... no. It wouldn't."

But it's not that simple, it's never that simple. Yes it wouldn't make him happy, but he can't let it end at that. He has to... to fix it, fix himself for Raihan's sake. So please, Leon, don't...

"Then I don't think you have to." Ah. Yes, there it is. Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. The hand-holding was nice, and Leon's been nothing but sweet, but he hasn't gotten any closer to solving this— "And I think it's wrong that you want to change something fundamental about yourself to make your partner happy." 

"...What?" He chokes.

"And I don't think Raihan would be happy about that, either. That's all I wanted to say."

"No, wait, that can't be all. What do you mean fundamental? It's not a part of me that I like, I want to change it!"

Leon's head turns, and the seriousness on his face is humbling. "Would you ever have disliked that part of you if it weren't for this situation?"

He wants to back away. Right now. He doesn't like where this is going.

Piers disentangles their hands, draws his back under his cloak. "Don't... Don't imply that I'm..."

"I'm not trying to imply anything. I understand why you don't like the idea of the bond, Piers, and I think it's completely okay. You were locked up for a long time, by someone you cared about, right? Someone hurt you and that's not easy to forget. I'd love to forget what Rose did to me, and get rid of the parts of myself that he shaped, but... you and Raihan are showing me that it's okay those parts are still in me, that I don't have to get rid of them before I'm allowed to be happy. That I can keep them and still be happy, even. Like earlier, with my sword."

"But this is more complicated than keepin' a sword. I want to overcome that part of me that's in the way of bein' Raihan's mate. It's in the way of me bein' happy, don't you get that?"

He feels like he's repeating himself, but it's hard to tell if they're things he's already told Leon, or things he's said to himself over and over again in his thoughts.

"Piers, what exactly are you wanting to overcome here? Help me understand." Leon rolls onto his side to face him fully. "Is it your desire to stay free? Not wanting to participate in something you can't give back to? What's so bad about that? If there's something I'm missing, please tell me, because so far it sounds like the best thing to do is to just tell Raihan no."

Those words are everything Piers was afraid of and everything he wanted to hear at the same time. He rolls over to put his back to his friend, unable to think while being stared at by entreating, caring eyes. He both wants and doesn't want Leon to touch him again. All he gets are more scary words.

"Piers... you might think it's bad that you don't want the bond, but I don't think so at all. It goes against who you are. Against the Piers that I know, at least... Someone who values his freedom and autonomy, and hates being controlled... I know you want to see the mating as a good thing, to make Raihan happy, but I can't shake this feeling that you'd be sacrificing something you shouldn't have to sacrifice." A light touch rests on his shoulder.

He swallows, tries to speak. Fails. He can only communicate through his silence, his lack of rebuttal, and a twitch of a shrug beneath Leon's steady hand. He's glad he's covered up. The touch would burn, otherwise.

"I really think Raihan would understand. If you told him everything you told me, he'd work with you, because he loves you, and... and maybe he'd be hurt, but you two would work through it, right? I- I'm not good at this relationship stuff, but what I do know is that you love each other already without being mates, and that you two shouldn't need it to be happy. I can't speak for Raihan, but I think that... ugh, I'm sorry, I'm losing where I was going with this..."

Leon groans, and his hand slides off Piers' shoulder.

Piers is in no rush to answer. Instead, he ruminates on the fragmented advice, piecing it together along with everything else Leon's said until the full message shows itself. It scrolls through his head, and instead of churning up his already-tormented feelings on the matter, it... settles them down. Just a bit.

Leon's words might not be what Piers wanted to hear at the start, but... this is enough. This right here is enough.

"It's okay," he says. "I got what you meant."

"I'm sorry I couldn't really help." The grass crunches behind him. "I feel like all I did was rant at you and say stuff you either already knew or didn't like to hear..."

Piers' lip twitches. "You're right about that last bit. But you've helped more'n you think." He sucks some air between his teeth and holds onto it for a moment. "I've got a good place to look at this from a new angle. I think I can move forward now, and that's all I wanted. Thank you, Leon."

The silence behind him is tense. Piers waits it out, trusting that Leon will speak his mind after doing such a good job of it so far, and sure enough, he soon does.

"Piers... Is it okay if we... If I..."

He doesn't know exactly what Leon's trying to say, but he gets the gist enough that he doesn't care about details.

Piers sits up and undoes the tie at his collar. Without the point of support, the cloak falls loose around his shoulders and allows the cool night air to assault him, but he doesn't let it hurry his motions. A look over his shoulder shows him Leon on his back again, face darker than it was the last time Piers saw it.

"Lift your arm. No, not straight up. Your other up." He chuckles as Leon realizes what he means to do and hurriedly accommodates.

Once the space has been made, Piers lays back down and tucks himself against Leon's side, tugging the open cloak over them both like a blanket. He'd rather not lay directly on the grass like this, but everything else will make it worth it. Like the prince's muscular shoulder. It makes for a nice head rest.

Leon is frozen while Piers gets comfortable, and that won't do at all. Leon's probably never had anyone lay on him or cuddle up to him like this, which is a dead shame. He's very comfortable, and the man's got a lot of warmth (both literal and metaphorical) to give. He deserves to have some of it returned.

"If what you wanted to ask was 'is it okay if we cuddle,' the answer's a happy yes."

Leon's arm twitches, and finally curls around him. Piers sighs, turning onto his side and gently laying his forearm on Leon's chest under the cloak. He's so warm that Piers has already stopped shivering. If this were a more casual time, with less on the mind, he'd be more highly aware of the body he's laying against, but for now... all that matters is that it's Leon.

This isn't what he pictured their first cuddle to look like. It's rather nice. It's just them out here. The only things that can spy on them lying in the grass are the stars over their heads, and stars don't snitch. They can relax, here.

The arm around his back shifts, bends, and a large hand rests lightly on the curve of his waist. Too lightly, still resisting gravity. 

"Thank you," he says. "For helpin' me, and for this. This is nice."

"Yeah. I like it too."

Eventually, Leon's body calms. His hand rests its full weight on Piers' waist, and he rewards it with a small rub of his cheek against Leon's muscular shoulder.

The stresses of their conversation have all but faded. He could fall asleep like this. But at the same time, he could stay up all night, laying against the man his heart's been tugging him towards. It feels a touch underhanded, to have this when Leon isn't aware of his growing feelings, but even if there were no romantic inclinations at play, Piers would still want to do this. He hopes Leon feels the same way.

"Piers...?"

"Mm?"

"Sorry to bring this up again, but... How come you didn't seem bothered by the bones we passed coming out here?"

He chuckles. "It's not dead things I fear. It's the makin' of." He can feel Leon getting tense again. "Don't worry, I blame neither you nor Raihan for doin' the things you deem necessary. He's no monster and you're no weapon."

Leon relaxes. This time, he really does nearly fall asleep. He's warm and cosy, and half on his way to dozing right off until Leon nudges him with a slight tightening of his arm.

"Hey... up there." Leon nods at the sky. "What kind of things do you see?"

Piers turns his head to squint upwards. It takes a few blinks for the stars to come into focus.

"Hm... How philosophical are you wantin' to get?"

Leon chuckles and slides his hand a few inches higher up his ribs. Piers' back arches by itself to chase the touch. "I was just curious about the constellations you know. What kind of stories they tell."

"All kinds, same as yours, I bet."

He's never thought about other people seeing different things in the sky than him. Now he wants to ask Raihan about it, too.

"I don't think Rhondeland's are that varied. There's a lot of war and battle tales up there. Like that one..." Leon's free arm lifts out from under the cloak, and his fingertip traces the connections between a patch of bright stars. "We call it Zacian. A hero immortalized in the form of a wolf. There's a partner constellation that isn't visible until autumn, on the other side of the sky."

"A wolf, huh... I think I see it. I know a wolf one, too, but it's..." He searches the sky for the pattern and finds it, upside down from his perspective, just over the forest's treetop horizon. "There. A she-wolf who massacred a whole village to find her stolen cub. She's peekin' at us."

The full tale mentions how after she tore the village apart, she found her cub, already dead, and it was her grief that pushed her to retreat into the sky so she could watch over all of her kind from above. And if she ever sees cruelty against the innocent, she'll descend and tear people apart and trot back bloody into the sky, and that's why the stars that make up her head are reddish. A good story for scaring kids into being nice.

"Oh, that one's part of a bigger constellation for me. It's the... I think that's the right foot of the hero who carved the River Rhonde with his giant plow."

"...You have a hero who wields a plow?"

"He was a hero for what he did with it! Afterwards he finds a magic spear and kills a bunch of monsters, if that's not enough for you."

Piers laughs and pushes his arm across Leon's chest, hiking a leg over his lap while he's at it. "It's plenty."

The night goes on, and they talk about the stars and their legends until the moon crosses the sky enough to remind them how late it is. It's about time for them to get back.

Piers opens his mouth to say so, but Leon speaks first.

"We should probably get back home."

_Home._

It's the first time Leon's said it himself.

Despite his happiness, Piers is reluctant to sit up. He hoards the cloak to keep as much of Leon's body heat as he can, while the prince rises to his feet and dusts himself off. Leon bends back down to lift his belted scabbard, but instead of securing it to his waist, he merely holds it, and extends his other hand to aid Piers to his feet.

It's hard to let go once he's up, and going by how Leon doesn't drop his hand, only keeps holding it as they start to walk, he feels the exact same.

\- - -

"So? How'd it go?"

"Well enough," Piers says, shedding his cloak and sliding into bed. He's warm enough that there's less urgency than usual to wrap himself in blankets, a fact that Raihan detects just fine, going by that cheeky grin.

It's a face that's so hard to say no to. He may have to start thinking about it now. Leon's words had merit. He just needs the time to think of his new options, plan ahead, all that...

"Told him you snore, by the way," he says, casual as can be as he slips into bed.

Raihan scoffs and wraps himself around the blanket cocoon as soon as he's settled. "Given the context, I guess I don't mind him believing that."

"..."

"What. I don't. Do I?"

"Just get some sleep, love."

"Babe, I gotta know!" Raihan whispers and gently shakes his shoulder through the blankets. "I don't snore, do I?"

He presses his smile into the blankets. Leon was right, Raihan isn't someone who'd love him any less over anything. "Only on occasion. Don't worry, I find it quite cute."

"Cute," grumbles the dragon, as he adjusts himself. "I'll show you cute..."

"More'n you already have? You're quite hard to outdo." Piers yawns and tucks his hand beneath his chin. "Must say, though, Leon gives you a run for your money."

"...That I can accept. He is cute."

"Sure was when I gave him a kiss goodnight," he smugly says.

"A kiss that I missed? Where?" Raihan folds his wing over their spooning.

He keeps the answer to himself for just long enough that Raihan starts squirming. "Nowhere special, just on the forehead."

His body warms at the fresh memory. Leon, sitting on the edge of the bed, calling for him to wait before he left. Piers turned around, saw how flustered Leon was over _something,_ and realized that oh, yes, this was a man who badly, badly wanted to be kissed. He'd have done it on the lips if Leon didn't look so bloody cute right then.

"Aw, boring... Cute, but boring. When are you gonna show him how good you are with your mouth?"

"When I think he won't pass out from it," he drawls, mostly sarcastic. He might want to rethink that, though. Tonight's events showed that Leon's hungry, not shy, for touch. He doubts that a kiss on the lips would do anything but stoke that hunger, and _that_ is something Piers would like to see...

"You gonna let me sleep now? I was out for hours, I'm..." A yawn cuts him off. "Mh, exhausted. Gonna pass out."

"You'll have to tell me later what you two were doing that occupied you for so long." Raihan lightly laughs, oblivious to the weight of what he just requested. Piers isn't about to tell him. Not yet, not yet. But sometime, he will. Leon's helped him with that much. He doesn't feel any more guilt about needing time.

"Maybe sometime. Now, please let me sleep, love."

"Alright, alright. Goodnight, baby. Love you."

"...Always?"

Raihan holds him closer, and presses a kiss behind his ear. "Always. No matter what."

Of course. He shouldn't have felt the need to ask. Piers' heavy eyes fall closed, and the warmth around him finally chases away the last of the night's chill, and he easily, willingly, loses himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, sweet progression. So nice to take steps forward. Surely that's the only direction they can go, yes? :)
> 
> Next chapter: Piers and Leon play a nice, friendly, well-intentioned, not-at-all-stressful... game of chess.


	6. The Thorny Pine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tag/warning for: Dissociation

Despite how late he stayed up that night walking and talking with Piers, Leon had the most refreshing sleep of his life, and the days that followed were equally restorative, for a myriad of related reasons.

For one thing, whatever barrier stood between him and Piers casually touching each other completely vanished.

Whenever Leon helps in the kitchen he finds himself rubbing arms with Piers as they pass or stand near each other, and whenever they sit together—whether it's across the small dining table, or side by side around the cottage or outside—some part of their bodies will inevitably touch. Sometimes it's an ankle rubbing his leg, or their sides pressing together, or, more rarely, an arm around the waist. Leon's lost track of who does what more, they both seek each other out, and each experience leaves him just as giddy as the last.

He's even gotten more hugs! Mostly from Piers bidding him goodnight. They're his favorite, and so hard to let go of, but the knowledge that he can get more later is enough for Leon to pry his arms loose and let Piers go.

Rose never hugged him in all the time Leon knew him. The most he ever got from his king was the occasional pat on the head, or, once he became a man, on the shoulders.

Leon wouldn't be surprised if this past week contained more affectionate touch than his entire lifetime in Rhondeland. He doesn't think he can ever go back to the drought after experiencing this sweet rain.

He was nervous exactly once, when they were reading together in an armchair not meant for the width of two people. Piers might have been half in his lap, and maybe he wrapped his arm around Piers' waist to help support him, and goddess above, his hair was so soft and smelled so good, and when Piers leaned back against his chest he found it impossible to keep reading along over Piers' shoulder and was _very_ grateful that the man was only _half_ in his lap—but those aren't important details. What's important is that right around then, Raihan stopped by, noticed, and stared. Piers only commented a smooth "What?" to which Raihan grinned, and flashed a hand gesture Leon didn't recognize, but figured it meant the same as a thumbs-up, going by how Piers settled anew against his chest.

After that, the dragon became even more indulgent in the quick preenings through his hair or claps on his shoulder whenever their paths cross. That's excluding the time they spend grappling, which has been more and more common lately. According to Raihan, the territory's stable enough now that he doesn't need to be so watchful over it, and can spare more time for other important things, like adoring Piers or doing his best to put Leon on his back during their sparring sessions.

Battling Raihan is one of the few times where Leon can feel good about being a warrior. Someone who strives to improve for the fun and the art of it. No blood, no lives on the line, only the joy of clashing with someone who pushes him to greater and greater heights to improve.

There's also the joy of the aftermath. When they pick themselves up off the ground, dust each other off, and reflect on the fight the whole way to the river and chatter as they wash off, which has become a joint ritual at this point.

With the weather warmed up enough to be sweltering midday, the consistent cold of the river offers more relief to his worn-out body each time he enters it.

Speaking of relief... The cold water in addition to his exhaustion from wrestling a dragon are reprieves from a certain something. If not for those two things, the ritual of bathing with Raihan would be very har—difficult! Very difficult.

Leon glances over his shoulder as he squeezes down his water-heavy hair. Raihan's staring right at him, facing him fully with the water barely covering his hips, and gives a little wave that Leon hesitantly returns before going back to washing himself.

It's not like he was never aware of how attractive Raihan is. The very first time he laid eyes on the dragon, he noted every handsome feature. To focus on the battle that ended up never happening he suppressed his attraction. And after that, never thought to un-suppress it. Overhearing Raihan and Piers' intimacy that day knocked something loose, and it was a random smile and tilt of the head sometime later that brought it all flooding back, and he doesn't think he can ever ignore it again.

As if Piers wasn't distracting enough on his own. Piers is eerily beautiful, unearthly, untouchable, while Raihan's beauty is as present and physical as an earthquake, or a thunderstorm, or any other kind of natural disaster that affects you whether you like it or not. He doesn't know how he managed to avoid it for as long as he did. All he can do now is weather the storm as best he can.

It doesn't help that whenever Piers and Raihan are together, they don't bother hiding how much they're into each other. He understands Piers' thorough, openly-expressed attraction to Raihan. He's a handsome creature with a striking frame and vibrant presence. A nice voice. A talent for lightening the mood when things get too tense, but not afraid to dive into intensity himself. He's friendly and warm, and inspires Leon to keep pushing to improve. His brand of fire is completely different from Piers', a wildfire compared to a controlled slow burn, and together they burn all the brighter.

This is a dangerous line of thought. So far he's been good about staving off the effects they have on him individually, but whenever he thinks about them _together_ , his shields might as well be wet paper. They're just so... complete. Piers is wonderful and so is Raihan, but together, they bring out the sublime.

After living with them for this long, Leon knows what to look out for between them. The softness in their eyes when they look at each other. The way their hands move so confidently over each other's bodies. The smirks, the smiles, the complete lack of personal space, the way they move around each other in a dance only they know the steps to.

The personal space thing is something Leon can share with them, at least. He doesn't have much personal space when Piers is involved, which he enjoys, and Raihan has no regard for it at all. Which... really, he doesn't mind either.

If he had a sense of self-preservation, he'd mind it. Letting them be so close to him has gotten dangerous. But they're just being friendly, and who is he to deny that when it's everything he's always wanted? As long as he can exercise self-control over himself, everything will be okay. His whole life was spent mastering self-control. Finding either of them attractive is no issue as long as he doesn't let it get deeper than that. He refuses to let it get in the way of what he has now. And more importantly, refuses to let it get in the way of what _they_ have now. A lovely relationship that's perfect as it is.

Piers hasn't spoken to him about the mateship thing since that night. The lack of continued conversation on the topic coupled with Piers' new touchiness with him has to mean his attempt at good advice worked.

Knowing he was able to do something for Piers makes him feel good. Helpful. More useful, and not in the same way he's always strived to be. Taking care of emotions feels much better than taking care of monsters. It's harder in some ways, because there's no physical, visible thing to defeat, but it's infinitely more rewarding to see a smile at the end of the battle than a heavy corpse.

All that's left to do is wait for Piers to make up his mind and have a conversation with Raihan about it. He has faith that they can work it out. After all, they love each other so much. If there was ever a couple that could overcome anything, it would be these two.

A splash of water hits his side.

"Thinking about your endangered win streak?" Raihan grins and wades closer. The marks that were on his skin, placed by Piers' lips and teeth, have long faded, but if asked, Leon would be able to point to where each one used to be.

"As if," he fires back with a smile of his own. As distracting as Raihan's body is, talking with him remains effortless, and the topic of training makes it easy to forget everything else. "At the rate you're going, you'll never beat me. I keep telling you, I can teach you real technique whenever you want."

Raihan sinks down to crouch in the water until only his head, shoulders, and tops of his wings are dry. "And I keep telling _you,_ I feel like I'm learning plenty on my own."

It's tempting to splash him, while he's so low. Leon knows better. The one time he tried to splash first, his attack was returned tenfold, with a wave he swears was magically-influenced based on how it tingled all over his skin when it swamped him.

So he keeps his hands to himself for now.

"Well, my offer always stands." He throws his hair over his shoulder and fluffs it out best he can. He can sense Raihan's stare, but that's nothing new.

He leans over and cups some water to rub over his chest.

A dragonfly, jewel-bright and glittering, zips over the water in front of his face. It pauses for a few seconds and darts to a new spot, repeating the process in erratic zig-zags until it chooses to land on the top claw of Raihan's wing. Rather than shoo it away, the dragon holds extra still to let it rest.

Leon straightens up slowly, idly rubbing the water from his skin and slicking down his chest hair in the process.

"Doesn't all that tickle?"

Leon pulls his attention away from the insect. "What?"

A scaly hand lifts out of the water and points a claw right at his chest. The bug buzzes away, and Leon looks down at himself.

"All that hair. I've always wanted to ask a human about what it's like to have it. Piers doesn't have any, so it's not like I could ask him. Does it tickle?"

"No, I've never thought about it tickling... I guess I can see why you'd think so." He self-consciously rubs his own chest. Thanks to the wetness, all he accomplishes is pushing the hair new directions.

Raihan creeps closer. He's still mostly submerged, but leaves his hand up out of the water.

"I wanna touch it."

"W-Why?" Heat crawls over the back of his neck and he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Why not? Come on, I'm curious about what the hair feels like. Just a quick touch."

The way the dragon is eyeballing his chest makes it clear that Raihan won't let this go anytime soon. It's not that Leon has any true objection to letting Raihan explore his human body, but...

It's just not safe. For himself. Looking at Raihan is one thing, being taken by his personality is another. Getting touched by him? Beyond sparring, beyond the constant tweaking of his hair? Leon doesn't think he'd survive that with his dignity intact. With Piers, it's easier, because Piers exudes his own air of self-control, but Raihan? The dragon is unashamed of his whims and sees no need to hesitate on indulging himself. Storm of a man, hard to not get swept up in his desires and motivations. Piers can, because Piers is the eye of that storm. The calm, the quiet, but part of it all the same.

Raihan inches closer. "You and Piers are all over each other lately. I mean, so are we when we spar, but that's different. I wanna feel you outside of that."

He has no rebuttal to that he can verbalize.

The dragon sinks further into the river until only the top half of his face is showing. Have his eyes always been that large? Raihan looks... kind of cute, from this angle. Oh no.

A rush of bubbles comes from the dragon's submerged mouth, and Leon thinks he can make out a broken _p-bl-bl-leaaase?_

"Alright! Okay, you can touch." He flushes and lowers his arms, just in time for Raihan to surge upward and get him wet all over again. Leon stands his ground, not knowing what to do with his hands, so he holds them just above the water.

"I've been dying to do this. I'll make it quick, don't worry."

Raihan lifts both hands. Wait, both? Is both really necessary just to see what chest hair feels like?

Two hot palms press over his chest and long fingers soon follow, to cover his pectorals in a splayed double grasp. Leon jerks his head to look directly off to the side. He always knew Raihan had large hands, but...

"Damn... All muscle, huh?"

He doesn't know how to answer that, so he doesn't. Leon bites his lip when Raihan slides his hands lower and pushes upward with the heels of his palms, and blushes thoroughly when a pleased rumble emanates from his companion.

He's starting to think Raihan was lying about making it quick. Or he might have forgotten instead, distracted by whatever it is he's interested in. Is it really just the body hair...?

"Bet it's softer dry... But wet isn't so bad."

Raihan palms him enough to confirm that no, it's not just the body hair. His breath hitches slightly when the edge of a hand rubs over his nipple and isn't it nice that the river's so cold and refreshing? He just needs to focus on that. The cool water rushing around his legs and hips, not the warm, curious hands all over him, pressing and gripping.

"Where'd you get this scar?" The hands thankfully leave his chest, but he's not left alone for long. A claw strokes down over his heart, where a cut as long as his finger was placed long ago.

"I- I think it was..." Was it during a tournament? Or from some creature? Raihan's claw lightly scratches down the scar, and the memory comes jumping. "It was an arachne. She'd been stealing and eating children from one of our poorer towns. I was sent out to take care of her. She managed to get a swipe at me at the start of the fight."

She descended from above, from the trees, and tried to stab his heart but missed when he sensed her and dodged at the last second.

Leon doesn't make a habit of recalling the grislier details of his battles, but in a situation like this he doesn't mind setting his mind towards the gruesome. It's helpful for once.

Raihan leans down to get a closer look at the scar, and strokes away some of the wet hair covering it. Leon both wants and doesn't want to lean away from the new closeness. The large hand lingers over his chest, claws continuing to stroke and pet as Raihan gets his fill of looking.

"Did you kill it?"

He remembers the stab, the screech, the spray of blood that got all over him and hid the leaking of his own wound.

"I did. The fight didn't last long after she wounded me."

"Good." Raihan glances up with his smile missing. "Anything that harms you deserves it."

His heart thuds hard right beneath the scar. The water isn't cold enough to chill his body anymore, but he's warm for a different reason now.

The seriousness evaporates from Raihan's face as he straightens up, and leaves behind the cheery nonchalance Leon's grown so used to.

"Let's get dry before you start shivering. You last longer than Piers can but it's still not good to stay in the water this long. Get your pretty ass out!" Raihan ushers him out of the river with light swats against his back.

Little does Raihan know that being cold is the last problem Leon has right now.

Safe thoughts, think safe thoughts. The humid breeze over his wet skin. The pebbles of the bank under his feet. The buzzing of unseen insects. Piers, waiting for them at home because he prefers to not be in the sun if he doesn't have to be. Who'll absolutely greet Raihan with a kiss.

Come to think of it, for a dragon, Raihan is really on board with human methods of exchanging affection. Do dragons kiss each other?

He idly rubs his chest. Figuring each other out must have taken a long time...

"Hey Raihan..." He starts, as he shakes his legs out on the bank. "You've seen more of the world than I have. How common are interspecies relationships?"

"Uh?" Raihan follows him out of the river and jogs a short distance away. The space is necessary, because when the dragon flares and flaps his wings and whips his tail to fling water off, it's a legitimate hazard to anything wanting to keep extremities attached. "I've seen a few in my travels. You mean romantic ones, right?"

He nods. The dragon turns slightly as he thinks, wings thankfully blocking Leon's line of sight to anything unrecoverably distracting. "There's others who've made it work, right?"

"For sure. Romantic narrows it down, let's see..." Raihan scratches his cheek. "I've met a mermaid who had a human lover. Come to think of it, her lover was a princess too, what's with you royals going around falling in love with monsters?" He laughs. "Princess Nessa, I think her name was."

Leon straightens up from stepping into a fresh pair of pants. They fall around his ankle. "Did you say Nessa? You were in Catanan?"

"Maybe. I wasn't paying attention to human political borders during the few months I was in the ocean."

"You _swam?"_

Raihan rolls his eyes and gestures to his whole body. Leon averts his eyes for his own safety. "Leon, I'm a dragon. We change shape to fit what the environment demands of us. If I ever chose to take an underwater territory, all of what you see here... which you're not looking at, but you get the idea, would be gone. Not having limbs is weird, though, I much prefer being terrestrial and being able to feel the wind and weather. But yeah, I swam. How do you think I ran into that mermaid?"

Oh. Right, he forgot something so basic... Rather than answer what was probably a rhetorical question, Leon shrugs and busies himself with putting his pants on the rest of the way.

"I still want to know if it was the same Nessa..."

"If your Nessa is a princess, probably. Blue eyes, dark hair, tall."

It is the same Nessa. Small world, to a dragon with the ability to fly. Or swim.

"Yeah, that's her. I've only met her in person once, when Rose hosted this gigantic political ball and invited important people from all over the world."

"Sounds stuffy."

The blunt opinion is good to hear. "It was very stuffy."

The heat and humidity of midday lend an ease to his recollection.

It was a ball mostly meant to show him off. Leon remembers the stiff fabric and heavy gold trim of full Rhondeland regalia, from the horrible starched collar right down to the decorative saber strapped to his side. He shook hands with and bowed to so many people, smiled until his cheeks ached, memorized names and faces until his head spun. At the end of the day, only a few made a lasting impression.

The Queen of Fros was kind and maternal, in a pale blue gown that glittered like morning frost in the sunrise. There was a duke who was memorable for getting drunk far too early into the night, and it was a dry observation about the man's staggering antics that introduced him to Nessa. Princess of a seafaring nation that Rose was eager to be on good relations with, both for their powerful navy and their rich economy. He approved that Leon had pleasant conversation with her, and even implied that Leon should make efforts to get to know her on more intimate terms, which he did not attempt one bit.

Nessa did mention a friend back home that was dear to her, that she missed while away... Leon didn't think much of it at the time, but Raihan's story puts her comment in a new light.

A mermaid lover...

"Do you remember the mermaid's name?"

"What's it matter to you? I doubt you'll ever meet her."

"I know. I'd still like to know it." For the sake of his own memory-keeping.

"You're cute, you know that?" Raihan doesn't give him a chance to react as he carries on answering. "The princess called her Sonia. Her real name is something land-dwelling vocal cords can't pronounce. I enjoyed my time with her. She taught me a lot about the sea."

Sonia... that's a lovely name. Raihan hasn't given away much about the mermaid's personality or story, but Leon can't shake the feeling that if they ever did meet, they would get along. He liked Nessa a lot, and anyone she approves of must be a good person.

"Is that the only interspecies romance you've seen?"

"Other than my own, yes. I've heard about others, but they were only rumors or stories. Or cautionary tales. Legends, things like that."

"Are any of them about dragons?"

Raihan chuckles and makes his way to the large boulders he loves to sun himself on after every bath. "I know one. It's dragon lore. A story about falling in love with a human whose greed bled the dragon dry."

Unease tilts his stomach. "Cautionary, then."

"Yup." Raihan pops the 'p.' "Just a warning tale for hatchlings to be careful about who they entrust their things to. Not everyone will treat a dragon's possessions with the same respect we do."

Possessions... For Raihan, that includes Piers. Possession through mutual agreement.

"You're good about it, though," Raihan comments on his way past. "I was right to bring you into the fold. You respect the land, always thank your kills when you hunt on my behalf. Piers is happier with you around and so am I. And I know you have no intention of getting in the way of us being together. I was right to trust you."

"I'm happy here, too." The response came so easily that it surprises them both. Raihan turns around and his brows shoot up, and lagging behind is a slow-growing grin. "You and Piers are great tog—great. I'm glad that we can be friends."

Friends who make his heart beat harder than is appropriate. Leon fluffs his damp hair out and sweeps his bangs from his eyes.

Raihan paces closer. "Hey Lee, can I do something with your hair?" he excitedly asks.

His mind halts. Something about that question wasn't right. "...Sorry, what?"

"I asked if I could do your hair. I'm not the best, but if you let me practice I'll get b—"

"No, that wasn't all. What was the whole thing you said."

He fidgets with his hair as Raihan analyzes him. Understanding blossoms across his handsome face that eases right into a knowing smirk. "I called you Lee. Like a nickname. Because we're friends."

Oh... Nicknames. Like how Piers calls Raihan Rai, or love, or those things in his mother tongue. Or how Raihan's always calling Piers a myriad of pet names. Babe, baby, "treasure of mine," sweetheart, Piersy... Those nicknames are all more than friendly, though, so Leon shouldn't compare them to what's going on right now.

...Would he mind if Raihan ever called him something more than friendly? More friendly than "knight," for sure, and a step further than "Lee," which he already loves the sound of. What would that sound like, coming from Raihan...

Leon licks his lips and fiddles with the wet ends. Raihan wouldn't object if Leon used one on him, right? Would "Rai" be okay? And Piers, are there any nicknames he'd like? Friendly ones, of course?

He imagines walking up behind Piers, sliding his arms around that slender waist, and calling him baby. Nonono, that's too much! Something less brazen, like... like dear, or darling...

His chest tightens like a warning and he packs away that line of thought. Hopefully for good.

"Yeah. You can do what you want with my hair, I don't mind." It's odd that he asked this time.

Raihan perks up and swirls his hand in the air, and Leon does a smart about-face. In the middle of having his hair combed through by attentive claws, Leon pipes up with a new topic, desperate for the distraction.

"I've never seen you do Piers' hair before."

"He hardly ever lets me touch it! I love when he lets me brush it." Raihan starts to divide the locks into three sections. He must be going for a simple plait. "I want to preen him more often, but he's so picky about what happens to his hair. He has to be in a generous mood or he won't let me do anything to it."

No wonder Raihan's always so eager to touch his head. Leon smiles to himself and closes his eyes, focusing on the gentle tugs.

"Dragons really like preening, don't they."

"Doesn't everyone?" Raihan counters, sounding defensive. "Nothing wrong with looking good, and helping your... hm, friends, look good too."

...Why the hesitation there? Why on that word? Raihan's not trying to tell him anything, is he? No, Raihan never holds back from speaking what's on his mind. He's just being paranoid.

"Feel free to do what you want on me. I'm used to people fussing over my appearance. Always fixing my clothes or my hair when they catch something out of place. When you do it, it actually feels kind of comforting."

"I am more than happy to take advantage of the invitation, prince."

"Prince," he repeats before he realizes.

"Oh, I usually call you knight, right. Well, both work for you."

_But what happened to Lee?_

He shifts his weight slightly and stills himself when Raihan taps his shoulder in protest. "You really like nicknames."

"You shouldn't only be observing this now." There's warmth at his ear, and Leon shivers when he senses Raihan's closeness. "Anything you want me to call you in particular? I take preferences into account."

The low murmur sends a prickle all the way up his spine. Raihan rests a hand on his shoulder and leans even closer, until Leon can feel heat radiating against his upper back. If he were to lean into it just a hair, he'd feel Raihan's chest...

"I can come up with other things for you, Lee. You want something a little more special, like what my treasure has?" The hand on his shoulder squeezes. It's nowhere near his neck, but he still feels strangled.

"Lee is fine," he forces out.

"That's it? Alright." A chuckle tickles his ear. He very much wishes he was back in the cold water right now. "I'll have to come up with more options for you, then. Let me know whenever you hear something you like, sunbeam."

Raihan withdraws to finish up with his hair, and the loss of the dragon's heat does not leave him any cooler.

_Self-control. Self-control. Finding them attractive is okay, wanting to do something about it is not. Just stay in control..._

A minute later and the dragon makes a disapproving hum. "I didn't think this through. Hold this for me while I find something to tie this with. I did a good job and wanna show Piers."

Raihan passes him the tip of a neat, thick braid, and Leon pinches the end, and only lets himself relax once Raihan's out of earshot. He's still tense, but less so, now that the overwhelming force that is Raihan has left, however momentarily.

He doesn't know how many more days of this he can stand.

* * *

_Dear M,_

_Been a while since last. Still safe, still happy, still missing you._

_Apologies for how long it's been since my last letter, I've been busier than you'd believe. I'm so glad winter's finally over. The melting snow has brought more new things than expected._

_R and I have a new m—_

Voices, outside.

Well, it's about time they got back. He swears those two spend longer and longer outside during their sparring sessions. Makes him wish he was able to play like that with either of them. No holding back, yet with no fear of injury. It looks like great fun. It's nothing Piers is actually jealous of—he's glad they're spending time together and he has no desire to be out there in the sun and the heat—but he can't help but feel that he isn't giving Leon enough fun. Not like Raihan is.

Oh, of course, how could he forget. If it's games they want to play, Piers has something perfectly suited to his own brand of fun. And if his hunch is correct, Leon should enjoy it too.

The door finally opens and Piers abandons his letter-writing. Any comment he has about their timeliness dies on his lips when Leon steps into the house.

His hair's in a thick purple braid. Right on his heels is Raihan, ducking through the door looking mighty proud of himself.

"This what took you lot so long?" He lifts the end of the braid. It's tied with a thin cord of twisted grass, in an honest-to-gods bow. Delicate work for large hands. The shorter hair near his ears is sticking out cutely. Leon's lips are tucked in slightly, in apparent embarrassment.

The dragon pushes the door closed with a curl of his tail. "I've gotten better at working with hair, look."

So that's what it is.

"It looks lovely." He straightens up and places the braid back over Leon's shoulder, first giving Raihan an approving look before lowering it to Leon. "And you look very handsome."

 _Adorable_ would be more accurate, but he'll spare Leon that for now.

"Thank you..." Oh, that blush makes it even better. "He did a good job. I like it like this."

Raihan steps around them to loop his arms around Piers' waist from behind. "Damn right you're handsome. You look pretty today, too, baby."

He twists enough to meet Raihan for a quick kiss over his shoulder, and out of the corner of his eye he catches Leon watching. Staring. Perfect opportunity to set something harmless up.

"Fishin' for a compliment of your own?" He aims at Raihan.

"Baby, I already know I look good."

"I don't have to bother sayin' it then, how convenient."

The arms around his waist tighten. "Aw, c'mon... I still wanna hear it."

"And you're only seekin' it from me?" He passes Leon a sideways smirk. "I'm not the only one you can chase for praise. Leon, be a dear and appease this vanity-ridden creature for me."

Leon's eyes widen and Piers is pleased to see that he still looks flustered. He's extremely interested in how Leon responds to a request like this.

Raihan leans down and rests his chin atop Piers' head. "I do love being appeased. Alright, Lee, do your worst."

Lee?

"Ah..." Leon tugs on the end of his braid. "I'm not creative with things like this, sorry..."

"Nothin' wrong with keepin' it simple," Piers says before Raihan can. Raihan's hands splay across his stomach, high and low, and he doesn't mind the idle touching even if it's right in front of Leon. The game's changed regarding physical intimacy and he fully intends on playing it well.

Leon lets go of the braid and his gaze flickers up and down, between Piers' and Raihan's, before finally settling high with determination. "You do look good. You're stunning, Raihan."

Leon tops off the compliment with a smile meant for one that catches Piers in its wake. Thank the gods he wasn't in direct line of fire.

The hands on his front press slightly. He can't see Raihan's face but he knows what expression the dragon is making. Pupils narrowing within wider eyes, lips a touch looser thanks to a slackened jaw that isn't given away thanks to Piers' crown being in the way.

On the outside Piers remains neutral, but on the inside he's shaking his own hand for the successful double checkmate.

Oh!

"Rai, that reminds me, d'you remember where the game board is? And all the pieces?" He lightly asks, breaking the tension.

Raihan lifts his chin off his head and slackens his hands. "Should be where we last put it. I'll go look."

"Thank you, love." He looks over his shoulder to catch Raihan's expression, and oh yes, that's exactly what he was hoping to see.

Once Raihan's retreated to wherever the hell 'last put it' is, Piers turns to face Leon with a smirk.

"I'll let you in on a little secret."

He crooks a finger and waits for Leon to come to him. They're already standing quite close, but he wants him closer. That's it.

"If ye wanna take Raihan off guard, best thing is to be even more up-front than he is. But it only works if you've got the sincerity to match." He lightly taps Leon on the tip of his nose. "You've flustered him just now, which was a delight to see, so thank you."

Leon visibly processes that information.

He backs away a step. "Do what you will with that knowledge. In the meantime, you know how to play chess, I assume. Given that you had a royal education and all."

"Chess...?" Leon looks thrown for a moment. "It's been a while. I never really played for pleasure."

All Piers hears is the implicit yes.

"Would you give it a shot with me? Raihan's a good opponent, but I'd love to play someone new. I'm sure you're quite good."

Chess was the game that saved Piers' sanity over the cold winter. For all the cottage contained when they found it, a chess board was not among the clutter. They had to make one themselves, and they still use it today, even if it's been a while since they've last played.

The board was crafted from a literal cutting board, since for some reason the previous resident had five of the damn things. It was easy enough to score the grid into the wood and stain it. The game pieces were first chosen from various odds and ends around the cottage (the one time Piers was grateful that whatever wizard lived here before them was a bit of a pack rat). Over time, the random objects got swapped out for rough-carved pieces of wood, courtesy of a bored dragon wanting something to do with his claws that would please his partner. The homemade chess set is still one of Piers' favorite gifts from his dragon.

It surprised him at first when he learned that Raihan already knew how to play. He didn't think dragons knew any human games, but Raihan only smirked, and said he was well-traveled, and that was enough to humble Piers into getting over it on the spot.

Raihan didn't have as much experience as he did, but with how much they played each other over the winter, the dragon can now go toe to toe with him. Scary how quickly he learns. Now it's a fair toss-up as to which of them will win. Piers still considers himself the more experienced player, but Raihan still manages to surprise him. Cheeky git will make unconventional moves on purpose, knowing it'll derail him while he overthinks their implications, and uses that to his advantage. The mind game aspect of chess is fascinating enough that Piers can't complain when he gets tricked in new ways.

He can't wait to see what Leon might bring to the table. Surely Rhondeland teaches particular strategies, ones Piers isn't familiar with. And seeing how Leon plays will give good insight into how his mind works. It'll be a wonderful opportunity to get to know him better, in ways that conversation and touch just can't supply.

"Oh, I don't know if I'm that good. The only person I've played against is..." Leon hesitates. "Rose. And I've never beaten him."

So the champion has limits after all... Piers' eagerness tarnishes somewhat before it steels over and shines with determination.

If Rose was the only one Leon's played against, that's all the more reason for him to play now. Piers doubts the king let the games be enjoyable. He'll show Leon what chess can really be.

"We'll see what you can do against me, then. I'm sure you're good, you're a smart man. We'll just have a quick friendly game, if you're open to it."

* * *

Piers' encouragement does little to breach the gut-level aversion Leon has to the game.

He hates chess.

Hates playing it, hates thinking about it, hates what it's used for. Chess is never "just a game."

He'd find a way to say no, if not for the person asking. Piers doesn't often express his desires so openly. He must be so eager to play.

The urge to please him, and give him whatever he wants to make him happy, wars with Leon's reluctance.

He can't deny that his dislike of chess comes from a single source: his father and king. Rose made him play often as a so-called bonding activity, and always had a targeted conversation to go along with each round, in those dark and stuffy personal chambers where it was always too warm, with never enough moving air.

This is all different. A game in a well-lit cottage, on a bright day, and most importantly, against someone who isn't Rose. It might even be good to have a match against someone who isn't Rose. Piers would never do what Rose does, because Piers isn't Rose.

That tiny mantra is enough for him to nod his head and put on a smile.

"Sure. I'd be happy to."

The little smile Piers gives him makes him think this will be worth it.

Raihan returns with a thick board in hand, along with a tiny woven box that rattles with every step.

"Alright, so I wanna play the winner. Wake me up whenever that happens, this guy wants a nap while the sun's still out. Next few days are gonna be gloomy."

"You weren't in the sun enough today?" Piers says.

"You appreciate things more when you know they're gonna run out soon. Kiss me goodnight, baby." Raihan puckers his lips. Piers rolls his eyes, but gives his partner a peck.

The front door is left open as Raihan leaves, giving them both a good view of the dragon sprawling out on his stomach in a large patch of clover in front of the cottage.

Raihan won't be watching, then. Leon can't tell if that's comforting or not. In the slightest chance that he actually wins the game, he'll have to play another round, which is decidedly not comforting. It's almost enough to make him want to lose on purpose, but he can't do that.

"Got a fun little idea," Piers murmurs, eyes on his settling lover. "Why don't we make a bet of our own for our first match? Winner gets to kiss the dragon."

Leon's traitorous imagination takes him too far down that path. He has to physically shake his head to rid himself of the image, glad that Piers is still staring out the door.

"I'd rather not. Sorry." Too dangerous. Complimenting Raihan and seeing his reaction was already cutting it close. Kissing him might as well be signing his own execution warrant while holding up a giant sign for _I have very inappropriate thoughts about the people I owe my life to_.

"No need to 'pologize, mate." Piers adjusts the items in his arms. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Piers wanders to the small kitchen table and pulls out his usual chair. Leon is slow to follow, and by the time he's sitting down, Piers already has half the pieces set up. They're made of two types of wood, one light and one dark. They're roughly carved, but the shapes are distinct. He gingerly helps set up the rest of the pieces. Habit has him ensuring every piece is precisely in the middle of its square and facing straight forward. Piers is setting his pieces with just as much care.

"Rai made all these, he surprised me with it one day. Still one of my favorite gifts. I like it even more than the glass and velvet set I had as a kid. I'm sure whatever you played on was fancier than both."

"Marble and gold." And they shone in the dim light. White especially, from the other side of the board. No matter how stuffy and warm Rose's room was, the pieces were always cold.

"There we are. Which side do you want to take?"

He lets Piers take white. It wouldn't feel right to play that color, considering...

"I'm ready if you are."

Leon scoots his chair in, then back out, rendering the adjustments pointless, and nods.

White takes its first move without hesitation. King's pawn, forward two squares.

Leon mirrors. He's used to this opening, knows exactly how to respond.

White king's knight to F3. Very common, Leon knows this too. He responds how he's used to responding, by sending his own queen's knight out towards the center of the board.

Piers observes him for a moment, and drops his gaze back to the game. "You're used to this."

White queen's pawn, forward two.

Ah... that move always means he messed something up and Rose has a cutting lecture waiting for him mid-game. If he doesn't want to come off as overly defensive, without looking weak, then...

There. That response always gets him further along in the game without comment.

"I've played a lot over the years."

"Won't go easy on you, then."

"That's okay. I'm used to that, too."

Piers doesn't say anything after that. His thick brows furrow and he hunches where he sits, wholly focused on the game now.

The wooden pieces are light and clack with each move. White, black, white, black. Leon sees an opportunity to capture his first piece, but doesn't take it. He's used to this pattern, knows it's a trap. If he were to take it, he'd get the most disappointed shake of the head.

 _You know better, Leon,_ he'd say. _Something's clearly on your mind. Why don't you share?_

He can't let any of that happen. Not here.

Leon holds onto his perfect posture as the game progresses. Show no weakness, betray no thoughts. Let his moves speak for him, and let his opponent interpret or misinterpret them as they will.

A pawn captures his rook. Unavoidable. Keep up the threat on the white queen. Keep her pinned right where she is, else she'll wreak havoc given the position of Leon's most important pieces. He needs time to finish this setup and can't let himself be pressed into going on the defensive. Push, push, keep pushing, no mercy—

"Leon?"

He takes his hand off his bishop to finish its traversal. "Yes."

"Are you alright?"

He looks up, and Piers is across the table. As he should be. Because Leon's playing against... oh.

Right. Right, right, right. Piers isn't Rose. What was he thinking? This is just a friendly game. Friendly. No stakes, no lessons, no nothing. Just two people playing because they want to.

"I'm fine!" He rubs the back of his neck and shifts in his seat. He didn't realize how stiffly he was sitting. In these hard chairs it's not too comfortable. "Why don't we continue the game? This is fun."

Piers searches his eyes. He wants to lean away, but one blink later those intense eyes are back on the board.

"If you say so."

It takes longer than average for Piers to take his next move. He sits still, deliberating, face a mask of total concentration and not moving his hand until it's time to execute his decision. His fingers are light and gentle over the pieces, but move with confidence, no hesitation. Like he knows he'll always have the upper hand.

There's no talking as the game progresses. Leon finds it harder to sit still and straight, because silence can be bad, or it can be good, there's absolutely no way to know which it is until the next word is—

"Excellent move."

His wooden queen is as cold as polished stone.

The cadence of the slide of a white rook four squares inward is the same, as is the way Piers one-handedly swaps white for black in a deft roll of his fingers. Snapping up his knight, setting it so gently on his side of the table. Keeping it a safe little prisoner, lined up perfectly along all the other convicts to face their brethren still on the battlefield.

The air is getting too warm to comfortably breathe. It feels darker in here. He's not allowed to betray any discomfort. Was never allowed. Endure and be perfect, or fail. Don't give away anything that can be analyzed and criticized. The less readable he is, the faster this is over, but there's only so much he can shut away when all of his pieces are speaking volumes about him, giving state secrets to the enemy. Not even his own troops are on his side. He's just being allowed to command them, they don't work for him, don't answer to him. Everything is always Rose's.

He sets his rook on the offense.

_Oh? Commendable strategy. You really are learning. Alas, your plans are too shallow, like always..._

He'd do anything to pluck at his shirt to stave off this stuffiness. He'd call it unbearable if he had no choice but to bear it.

The board is in a mid-game state and he's losing, not unexpected. He might be champion, but there are domains he isn't allowed to exercise control over. At the end of the day he's just a puppet and he'd do well to never forget about the hand inside him, granting him life and a purpose.

Usually, by now there'd be a lecture happening over the heads of all the pieces. His mental state analyzed and picked apart based on how he's played so far, the information woven into clean, cherry-sweet criticism dressed as praise. Splitting his attention between the white offense on the board and the dark treacle served on a silver-tongue spoon means doing worse at handling both. Right now there's only silence, only the battle on the board, but Leon's still keeping part of his mind at the ready, waiting and waiting for the words to start, the true purpose of the game to be revealed.

_Do you know why I called you here, Leon?_

_I'm sure you already know. You've always done well at recognizing your own failings._

_Ahh, and you were doing so well lately. I was starting to hope your improved behavior was a permanent change, but even I make mistakes sometimes._

_It's alright. We can always try again. I'll set up another tournament for you. You won't disappoint me._

"Check."

His heart seems to halt for a beat. Already? This soon? The last time he got defeated this quickly... No, concentrate!

His king is under threat. Have to run. Can he still castle at this point? Where's his knight—captured, facing him from behind white's territory. He needs to sacrifice a piece to keep his king safe from _his_ king. It's inevitable that he'll fall, it's always the same outcome in the end, but the least he can do is persevere and fight until he physically can't make any more moves. Giving up isn't an option, wasn't that one of the earliest lessons?

"Are you alright?"

"Of course," he automatically replies. Smiles his trained smile so they can move on.

Six moves, he can be crushed within six moves. Seven or eight, if Rose decides to toy with him. He nudges a heavy pawn forward.

A pause. "I'd rather you didn't lie to me, Leon..." The warning tone in that smooth voice drags the truth right out of him.

"I'm sorry sir." He can't offer more than that, because it would only be seen as an excuse, and excuses are always diminished and disregarded. Useless. He knows better than to say more than sorry.

No response. He sits and stares at the board, waiting for some gentle, scathing sigh, or a mumble under the breath that seems private but Leon can hear perfectly regardless, or a—

"Who're you callin' sir?"

He snaps his head up, and is shocked at how pale the face across the board is. Pale and beautiful and concerned and not...

It's Piers. And Piers isn't...

He opens his mouth to respond to the question, but not a word comes out.

Who _was_ he calling sir?

His stomach turns and the room is suddenly too bright, too open. The air is still hot and thick, that part's real, he's sweating. The board is wood, not stone, without a single hint of shine or gold, and there is no Rose, only him and...

Piers says something he doesn't catch and rises from his chair and reaches across the table and that hand is going right for his shoulder and it's going to be unbearably gentle, which would mean he was somehow inadequate and Rose isn't happy, he wasn't good enough, he hates when Rose looks at him in pity and manufactured sorrow like he shouldn't have expected Leon to _not_ mess something up, his diamond from the rough who'd best not forget his pathetic origins lest he grow ungrateful for all the hard, hard work that was put into him.

The hand retreats before it touches him, and Leon relaxes from his hard lean against the back of the chair. His stomach drops, because relaxing meant he was tense, meaning he violated the rule of absolute self-control. One fuck-up after the next. He hasn't been this bad since he just started being a prince. Only thing to do is sit and wait for Rose's word and judgement. It's always easier if he doesn't let himself think about it. Acceptance of his mistakes and the punishment that follows is the best way to get it over with. Don't give Rose any more reason to prolong things.

The board shadows.

"Piers, what happened? Are you—"

"I- I don't know, we were just playin' our game and—"

"I smelled fear, I thought something happened to—"

The voices are hard to comprehend. He barely registers that there are two, it's mostly all noise. He doesn't know what's going on, but for some reason he isn't able to care. Part of him knows he should be concerned. A very vague, over-his-own-head part of him. Or maybe it's behind him. If he could just reach out and gather everything back, that would probably be good. He might try, if he wasn't so unable to care.

A light weight crams into his lap and his face becomes cold. He feels it, but actually registering it happening comes a second later. A second and a half. It's pretty interesting how this disconnect is affecting his perception, he kind of wants another stimulus to see how his brain takes it.

"Leon? Leon, look at me." The voice hardens, and repeats the sound for his name, then softens down. "Lee...?"

_Me?_

_They want me? Which one?_

He knows he should obey, he hears the words, but putting them into an order his body can execute is hard, like there's something getting lost in translation.

Can't even do something so simple. It's too late to avoid whatever's coming, he messed everything up a long, long time ago. The best he can do now is not care about what happens to him.

* * *

This is all his fault.

Piers knows it, wants to punch something hard and rough for it, but he can't spare the mind to dwell on all the ways he's responsible when Leon needs him right now.

He straddles Leon's lap, lower back pressing uncomfortably against the edge of the table, holding his face and trying to do something to make Leon stop looking at something that doesn't exist. Seeing those usually bright and focused eyes staring a thousand paces into the distance scares him. It's the same look that people get when they've been touched by the fae too strongly and their minds can't cope, so they seem to... leave, for a bit.

Most of the time they come back to themselves.

 _Most of_ isn't good enough. Guilt roils in his stomach. Gods, why did he insist on playing that _stupid_ game? Why didn't he put a stop to it the first time he noticed something was off? He shouldn't have let Leon get away with lying the first time, he thought he could trust his word when he said he was okay. Why did he lie? Why?

An insidious little answer weaves through his head and settles wrapped around his windpipe.

_To make me happy?_

Raihan's hovering at their side, tense and looking about the room, instinctively on guard and ready to fight because two people he cares about are distressed. There's no enemy to fight or defend against, because this was all Piers' fault.

"Lee, please, I'm right here, we're both right here." He gestures for Raihan to come closer. The dragon kneels next to them and pushes a hand over the back of Leon's neck. "Are you hearin' me? Look at me, please..."

Leon blinks when Piers' thumbs rub near the corners of his eyes.

"Is his head okay?" Raihan whispers, stroking Leon's neck in short swipes with a little too much claw.

 _Obviously not, fucking look at him,_ he bites back.

When the fae-stricken come stumbling back, they rarely know where they are. Sometimes they even forget their own names. Can't recognize the faces of loved ones. This might not be the same thing at all, but it's all Piers has to cling to.

"He'll be fine, if we can just..." He makes a frustrated sound and pats Leon's cheek. "Leon, Lee. You're with us, with Raihan and Piers, do you understand that? With us. Raihan's here, I'm—Piers is here with you."

A familiar light rekindles in Leon's eyes. Piers almost throws his arms around his shoulders to hug him, but that light is quickly doused by an upwelling of tears and he panics. Is this better, or worse? Did he make things worse?

"Piers?" Leon's cracked voice is the sweetest thing he could hear.

The tears start spilling. Leon tries to rub them away, but Piers catches his arms and redirects them to wrap around his waist instead. Give him something to hold, that helps, if he remembers right.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay..." His whispers are rushed and pitched high from his tight throat. He brushes lavender away from Leon's forehead and presses his lips to the corner of a teary eye. "I'm here. Raihan's here. And you're here too."

Raihan starts fidgeting in place, only still where his hand cups Leon's bare neck. He was never good at handling emotionally-distraught people, but that's fine, it's fine, because Piers knows how. Tears are familiar to him.

Leon's arms tighten around his waist and pull him closer. His body's so hot, and his breathing is deep and uneven against Piers' neck, and laced with little whimpers that prick and stab at Piers' heart and conscience both.

Leon shudders and gasps like he just came up from drowning. "I'm s-sorry, Piers..."

Piers jerks back, hands planted on broad shoulders, waist still held tight and flush to an overheated body. "What—For what?"

Leon has nothing to apologize for, he did nothing wrong. The crime rests with Piers, he's the one who pushed Leon to this, but he still doesn't know how or what exactly tipped Leon into breaking. It was only a game at first, only a game. Leon was uncomfortable, but they kept playing normally, they barely said anything asides from a few comments here and there...

Leon doesn't answer right away. He looks terribly guilty, which is also wrong, because he has nothing to feel guilty over. 

"Please tell me," he whispers, sliding his hands up to cup Leon's stress-flushed face. "Leon, I want to help you."

"I thought... I thought I was—that you were..." His face twists and he shuts his eyes tight.

"That he was what?" Raihan asks, impatient in his distress.

Shallow breathing hitches and tumbles into a sob. The arms around his waist loosen and fall and now Leon's trying to take care of his own tears, rubbing and hiding his face and trying to hunch. Piers' heart is aching to comfort him, but something is off, that stays his hand and stops him from chasing after Leon to kiss his tears away.

He does his best to fill things in by himself. This started because of the game. Chess, that Leon said he's not good at, because he's never won a game before, because the only other person he's ever played against was—

_I thought that you were..._

The air vanishes from Piers' lungs and the void seeps through to his whole body. He swallows, reaches behind him and grips the edge of the table. The game pieces rattle.

_Rose._

Everything Piers was trying to avoid. He thought he was being careful, so careful, to not be manipulative or make Leon feel like there was any authority imbalance, or any debt owed, or that Leon had anything to prove to him, but even after all that, something about his person reminded Leon enough of his abusive fuck of a father that it sent him into an unresponsive daze.

He removes himself from Leon's lap as swiftly as he can. There's no good he can do here. He needs to get out of here, so Leon doesn't have to look at him anymore. If he leaves it might help him stop crying.

"Wait, Piers, where are you going?" Raihan stands after him.

"You take him, Rai. I shouldn't, you need to do it. I'm sorry," he finishes in a cracked whisper.

Raihan calls for him and tries to reach out, but he whisks himself away too quickly, feeling sick to his stomach and loathing himself more and more with every step.

* * *

Piers is gone. Left him behind with a crying Leon and more confusion than he had when he first rushed inside after smelling the fear-scent that woke him from the nap he regrets taking.

He tears his eyes off the tower door. Every instinct he has is pulling him towards it, to chase his upset mate, but he stays rooted to the spot. Piers wants space right now, and Piers entrusted Leon to him. Leon, who's still crying, quietly sniffling and trying to recover as quickly as he can on his own.

Raihan was never good at comforting crying humans. He was always lucky that whenever Piers needed to cry, he expressed the need to be alone, which was something Raihan could accomplish and feel okay about, knowing that it helped.

He has no fucking clue what a crying Leon might need, and Leon's in no state to tell him. He just has to guess and hope he makes the right moves. Piers went the touchy route with no hesitation, so he'll piggyback off that.

"Hey... Let's get you out of that chair. Come on, buddy..." He pulls the chair out and winces at how it scrapes across the floor under Leon's weight.

Leon is heavy and stiff in his arms. Taking him to Piers would do no good, not when Piers bailed like that... Outside, maybe. Fresh air, sunlight.

"I don't know what happened, but..." He ducks through the door and aimlessly walks. Doesn't matter where they go as long as it's far away from where Leon started having a breakdown. "We can fix it. It'll be alright. You and me, we're gonna talk stuff out. Don't worry about Piers for now, okay? He'll be fine, he's strong. I mean, you're strong too, but there's nothing wrong with crying once in a while, yeah? You still with me?"

Leon shivers in his arms and rubs at his eyes. No response. Alright then. He can keep talking to fill the silence.

"I hope you know that all this really is okay. Just a stumble. Not the third end of the world or anything."

Please let it be just a stumble. Please let it not be the end of either of their worlds. There was so much fear spilling out of the cottage. He turned his back just once, closed his eyes to them _once_ and something like this happened. Leaving them alone was a mistake. If he was watching, then maybe this wouldn't have happened, whatever this is...

"You're not mad?"

He glances down without slowing his pace. Leon's eyes are red from crying. "Why would I be?"

"I upset Piers."

He sighs through his nose and adjusts his sniffling cargo, lengthens his stride. That might be true, but at this point there's nothing to do but pick up after the mess. What's lost is lost. Staying stuck in the past is a very human way of thinking and Raihan has no intention of letting it rub off on him.

"I know. But you're important too. He told me to take care of you and I intend on doing that."

Both for Piers' sake, and Leon's.

By now Leon's tears have stopped; the salt-smell is dry and losing freshness.

He takes them across the river in one sharp leap with his wings spread to ease the landing. There's a grove of pale-barked trees here, with softer grass and gentler colors. Nice and cool and shaded. He'd have taken Leon somewhere farther away if he didn't think flying would only stress the human out even more.

"Sorry for making you carry me," Leon mumbles, and rubs at his reddened face again. "I hate being useless..."

A patch of grass, large enough for them both, welcomes Leon's tense body as Raihan lays it down.

"Hey, it's not like that. I like carrying you both around. What else am I gonna use all this strength for?"

Leon sits up and wraps his arms around his knees, while Raihan lays on his side within arm's reach, head propped up on his arm. His tail arcs around Leon's balled-up self.

"Now, how about you tell me what happened back there. I didn't get to see much."

If only he woke up earlier. He just had to take that nap, didn't he...

"I don't know... I just know that Piers wasn't happy with me. Or no," Leon grimaces at himself, "I was thinking he wasn't happy with me? And I remember he was on my lap, and said my name a lot. But then he was gone..."

"You don't remember much, huh."

Great...

"It's fuzzy." Leon presses the heel of his hand against his forehead. "I don't know what happened to me. We were playing the game like he wanted. It was off to an okay start... He seemed so happy to play me." He muffles a groan into his knees. "And I messed it all up. He just wanted to play a game with me and I ruined it... I just wanted to do something nice for him. This is all my fault."

The grass shifts as Raihan curls his tail in a tighter circle. "Don't say that. Piers felt bad about something too. I could tell he wanted to apologize for something. And I'm not faultless either. I'm sorry too."

"...For what?"

"For leaving you two alone." He scoots closer, draws his legs in, continuing to enclose Leon within the created space. "If I was there watching I'd have noticed something was up, and stopped it before you got so scared. I'm sorry, Leon, I should have been doing my job."

Leon lifts his head from his knees, just a hair. His bangs are so messy. "You don't need to watch us all the time. I'm supposed to be helping you with all the watching. And instead I just caused trouble. It was supposed to just be a fun game for Piers. It would have been, if I didn't... Ugh!"

"Whoa, don't hurt yourself!" Raihan pulls Leon's wrist down before he can grind his knuckles too hard against his head.

A sharp jerk, and his hand is empty. "I feel awful! I'm so bad at this, I keep making trouble for you both when I'm supposed to be helping. I don't deserve all this patience. You didn't do anything wrong, Raihan, you're doing too much for me. I don't deserve all this. You should go to Piers, he needs you more right now. I don't want to get between you two with my personal failings, I should be able to deal with it on my own like I'm used to. My feelings don't ma—"

"Don't say," he growls, the sound deep enough to shut Leon up, "that your feelings don't matter. I never want to hear you say your feelings don't matter."

Forget this distance.

Raihan pushes himself up and sits with his legs spread, knees bent to make an angular space right in front of him.

"Come here." He gestures towards himself when Leon only stares. "I said come here."

Leon sways where he sits, and finally crawls into the space between Raihan's legs. Immediately, he pulls his wings forward to close them off from the world, hunching forward with his hands resting on his knees.

Right before the last bit of sun is shut away, uneasiness crawls across Leon's expression. Raihan curses himself and stills his wings. Leon wants some light? That's fine. He'll leave some light. As long as Leon is close and surrounded by him, Raihan doesn't care about the details.

This is better, but not good enough. "You can lean on me if you want. You don't have to keep to yourself. Let me shelter you, baby, I wanna hold you."

The nickname has the intended effect. Leon makes a tiny sound and fits himself close, back to Raihan's chest, and yes, okay, now everything feels like it'll be okay. Raihan wraps his arms around the warm body, rests his chin on Leon's head, and opens his wings more to make a strip of visibility they can look through at the cool woods.

Looks like his wish to touch Leon outside their sparring sessions is being fulfilled. This isn't how he imagined it going, but... silver lining, as humans say.

"There we go... Alright. Give me a bit to think. I'm bad at talking about anything I don't have a real stance on yet."

"Okay..."

"In the meantime, just... I hope you feel a little better, okay? I'm not the best at dealing with crying, but I can deal with words if you give them to me." He sucks in and blows out a deep sigh. "Let's both take a moment."

Raihan always finds it easier to think in the dark. It's tempting to close his wings and put them in total shadow, but he's got Leon to think about here.

Alright.

What are the facts, that's most important. Ignore all the emotional reactions to things, like how horrified Piers looked in that split second before he shut down his expressions and drew away. How Leon sounded when he started to cry. Ignore how terrified he felt when he realized that inside the house, at least one of his precious treasures was scared out their minds by something he wasn't able to see or stop, or how useless he felt when Leon's strange state wasn't something he knew how to handle.

Just the facts. What happened.

Piers wanted to play a game of chess with Leon. Raihan left them to it, and took a nap in the sun. Something happened that freaked Leon out, enough that he got all... absent. Something Leon can't explain because he doesn't remember. Piers pulled him back, then left to leave him in Raihan's hands.

Piers feels bad over something unknown, Leon feels bad over making Piers feel bad, and Raihan felt bad over something he already apologized for, to Leon. Still need to apologize to Piers for leaving them alone. Although, the way Leon forgave him makes him wonder if it's necessary to say sorry to Piers, too. He'll still do it, just to be safe.

Fuck, all in all, there's not much to work with regarding solving the problem. Not much comes to him as he sits there working everything over in his head.

He growls to himself only to cut it short when the human in his arms tenses. Tch. None of that, then. Gotta hold back.

Raihan's used to being able to solve problems right away. If Piers is upset, he can easily pin down why and do something about it on the spot, even if that something is to back away and give his mate space. As for Leon, every time he's been upset, all he needed was some reassurance before he bounced right back, but right now it's not viable. None of this sits right with him.

The only thing that feels alright now is Leon, sitting against him. Letting himself be held, and relaxing the longer it continues. At least he's able to comfort one of them in some small way. If only Piers would call for him, he'd come flying in an instant—with Leon in tow, of course.

His arms tighten when Leon shifts, and loosen when he realizes that he's only adjusting himself, not trying to pull away.

"I think it's coming back to me, a little. I remember more."

Anything will help at this point. "Let's hear it, then."

Leon's hands hook over his forearms and pull them closer. He wants more? Raihan can give him more. Since he's barred from growling, he's itching to do something else to vent his restlessness and cuddling Leon sounds like a great substitution.

He pulls the human closer against him, brings his legs and wings in to shrink the space, and rubs his cheek over soft hair. This does feel better. "What have you got for me, sunbeam?"

Within his arms, Leon sighs, shaky and small.

"When we were playing... Piers asked if I was okay. I guess he could tell I wasn't feeling well. I- I don't like chess, but wanted to make him happy, and didn't want to stop the game for his sake, so I lied about being okay. The first time he let it slide, but the second time, he... told me not to lie. It sounded just like—" He sighs more sharply. "I wasn't in the room anymore, I was back with Rose. I thought it was Rose across from me, not Piers... But all of a sudden it _was_ Piers, and I feel awful that I put the two so close together in my head." Leon's voice quavers. "Piers isn't Rose. But during the game, h-he kept doing things that reminded me of him. He didn't mean to, but I still... I- I still..."

Ahhh, now things make more sense. Did Piers connect the dots too? Must have been why he left so suddenly. Piers has only expressed care and caution regarding how he treats Leon. Not wanting to scare him, not wanting to make him feel anything Rhondeland made him feel. And then this happens out of nowhere? Yeesh... He feels bad for his mate, wants to fly back and comfort him, but he's here for Leon right now. He'll do good for Piers by taking care of Leon.

His charge shivers and the soft salt-scent of tears comes back. "I want to tell him I'm sorry. This was all my—"

"Ah-ah-ah... No, I'm not gonna let you say that. I get it now. I think."

"You do...?"

"My guess is as good as any. I think neither of you are at fault."

"But—"

"But nothing. Piers didn't mean to set you up for freaking out, and you didn't mean to freak out. Sounds like two accidents to me. One led into the other, but... still. I don't think either of you need to feel bad over an accident. This'll all blow over just fine, don't worry about it."

Leon goes quiet, and he thinks that means he got through to him with a job well done, but that preconception doesn't last long.

"Sorry, but... That kind of makes it sound like all this is trivial..."

"Isn't that the goal? To have problems that end up being trivial?"

Leon makes a displeased sound and his confident smile fades. Okay, so... maybe this isn't so simple. That's what it looks like to him, though! They all did something they feel bad about, but that doesn't mean anyone has to be at fault, right? Problems can just happen without anyone being to blame. It happens in nature all the time. Branches fall and take down bird nests, the rain pours too strongly and floods countless burrows, mud makes creatures slip down slopes they can't escape from. None of it is anything's fault. Stuff just... happens.

Explaining all that to Leon might not work to make him feel better while the tears are back. Piers never minded looking at things purely objectively, taking emotion out of the equation, but he's not dealing with Piers right now. Gotta restrategize somehow...

"Back there... seeing you zone out like that was pretty scary. It really wasn't trivial in the moment. I had no idea what to do. I'm glad Piers seemed to know."

"I'm sorry for worrying you both..."

"Hey, we wouldn't worry if we didn't care. Would you rather we ignore you when you're suffering?" He half-jokes.

Leon's silence here is not reassuring. A short jostle snaps the human out of whatever's in his head. "Hey, I'm serious. We _want_ to worry. You matter to us, Lee. Piers and I were scared back there, yeah, but neither of us regret feeling concern for you. But if it makes you feel better, then apology accepted. Just know it's nothing to apologize for. Nothing that happened today was your fault."

"Raihan..."

He stills. Please, Leon, don't argue with anything he just said...

"Yyyes?"

"Keep saying all those nice things and you're gonna make me cry again," Leon groans.

He breaks into a smile and shamelessly wraps his arms and legs around his human to lock him in place. "Maybe I'm a sadist who likes seeing you cry, ever considered that? What other nice things do I need to say to make that happen?"

Leon makes a shocked sound and struggles within his grasp, but nope, not letting go. The knight might have better grappling technique than him, but no human can beat a dragon's raw strength when they decide to hold onto something. Then again, Leon's come pretty close. These muscles are not just for show.

"You've got pretty eyes," he sing-songs, "gold as your heart, which is saying a lot. And your smile could knock the sun out of the sky."

"Raihan!" Leon sounds strangled. "That's not what I meant!"

"Sorry, I'm on a roll here! I've got two beautiful souls with me and want them both to know how much I cherish them."

The wiggling stops. Raihan relaxes his hold slightly.

"...Really?"

"Really what, the soul thing?"

"N-No, the... the other thing," Leon mumbles.

"Ohhh, that." He nods to himself and adjusts his arms. He slides them under Leon's, to hug directly around his middle, and hunches to put his lips closer to Leon's ear. "Yes, really. I treasure you both."

Oh, shit, Leon wasn't lying about crying again—

"S-Sorry! I just..." Leon scrubs at his face with his newly-freed arms. "It's really nice to hear. Rose never... He hardly ever said that he wanted me. Just that he needed me for what I could do."

The urge to put his lips on Leon's ear is overshadowed by a wave of hatred for the so-called king. He very nearly growls again. Raihan doesn't make a habit of getting involved in human affairs, but if he ever happened to be near the land called Rhondeland, and if he ever happened to catch its king out all alone...

The fantasy of ripping a man's head off for the sake of both his treasures' continued happiness and safety appeases him enough to get back to smiling.

"You can hear it as much as you want. Like I told you earlier, I take preferences into account, Lee. If you want to be reminded just how much we care about you, we're more than happy to express it as many times as you need. So much that you might get sick of it, wouldn't that be something."

Leon laughs through his tears, short and stumbled, and it's one of the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard. "I don't think I could ever get sick of hearing that. Thank you, Rai... han."

He chuckles and noses into the fluffy hair above Leon's ear. He did his best to include them in his braiding, but it was hopeless, they were determined to stick out. "You can call me Rai. If you find something for Piers, that'll make him happy, too."

"Oh... Piers..." Leon sighs and the atmosphere sobers somewhat. "He'll... be okay, right? I know you said everything seemed like an accident, but I still need to apologize. Maybe not for freaking out, but... maybe for lying when he asked if I was okay. You can't say I shouldn't apologize for that."

He shrugs. "Got me there."

"Would it be good to find him after this?"

"Nah. When he retreats like he did, it means he needs space. It's better to leave him alone when that happens."

He might speak with a lax confidence, but on the inside, he's pretty concerned. Still hoping, keeping an ear open for any sign that Piers wants him right now.

"Good to know..." Leon pushes at the ground and Raihan happily accommodates the new closeness. "So we'll have to wait for the right time, huh..."

"To a degree." Now that he's calmer, he feels comfortable opening his wings and letting in the scattered sunlight that falls through the leaves above. The breeze freshens them both up. "After a point, it's better to chase him down and force him to talk with whatever he's worked out so far. Trust me, I'm speaking from experience here."

The one time he gave Piers as much space and time as he wanted, it did not go well. Poor thing thought himself into knots and was worse off than when he started.

"Do you plan on doing that?"

He pulls his arms most of the way loose, and rests his hands on Leon's stomach and chest. Hard and soft, both. "Mhm. I'd be a bad mate if I didn't."

Leon's stomach tenses when Raihan experimentally draws his claws over it. "I thought you two weren't mated."

His hand pauses. "I didn't know he told you about all that."

Leon goes stiff against his chest, and Raihan resumes pawing at him to calm him down. "Relax, it's not private information. It's just a habit to refer to him as my mate in my head. I want him so badly and I know it's only a matter of time before he says yes to trying. I can't wait until he's truly mine forever."

Just thinking about giving Piers the matebond puts him in a better mood. He pays no mind to Leon's silence, happy to fantasize. By helping Leon like Piers wanted, he's only proving himself further that he'll be a good mate for his lover. Anything he can do that'll help convince Piers to say yes sooner, he'll do it.

Leon squirms a bit and Raihan drops his hands. Too much touching, got it.

"W-When you find him to talk to him again, do you think I could come with you? Would that be okay?"

There's an idea.

"Sure thing. In fact, why don't you take the lead on it. I'll let you know when the time is right, and you go and force him to talk. He might try to slip away, but trust me, at that point it'd be better to pin him down. Not literally."

Piers hates that. Being forced to stay in one spot. Makes cornering him difficult when he really doesn't want to be found. Mm, but with the bond in place, there'd be no more worrying about that.

"I... I'll try. I want to make things right. I hate thinking about him being sad or angry..."

"You and me both," he sighs. "I know you can do it. I think it'll mean more if you approached him than if I did, to talk things out. He's far more worried about what you think of him than what I think of him."

Having Leon around both complicates and eases the whole thing. The issues they all face might be more complex with a third person added, but there's extra support now, as well. Pretty worth it. Dragons are solitary by nature, but Raihan was never one to follow tradition much. He flies on his winds of his own.

"I don't think badly of him at all... I really like him."

Raihan's heart lightens and he nuzzles against the top of Leon's head. "There, see? You already know what to say."

"Wish I could tell him that right now... I'll trust your experience and try to wait."

He presses his lips to Leon's crown and closes his eyes.

_See, Piers? I did it._

"Rai..." Leon softly says. "I want you to know that... if there's ever anything you feel bad about, I want to help you, too. I don't want to only be receiving your help, I want to give it, too."

How sweet. He rubs his hands over Leon's muscled shoulders before sliding down to rest on his biceps. These arms are a pleasant handful, just like Leon's chest. "I'll keep that in mind. I doubt there's anything that could happen involving you two that could truly upset me. Well, other than you two getting hurt. But thanks."

"Y-Yeah, I hope nothing happens, but... just in case, right?"

Leon's worry is so cute. Dragons aren't really creatures that need much of it, but it's nice to have. It's especially sweet coming from something like a human, even one as exceptional as Leon.

"Sure. Just in case. Now let's get a head start on giving Piers space by chilling here for a bit. I'll make up for all the cuddles you're not getting from him."

"You don't have to—"

"Don't mistake me, baby," he slyly says. "I want to. I've been missing out on the Leon hugs, Piers got to have them all to himself. Not anymore. Once this blows over we'll all get into a pile or something, how's that sound."

"Pile?" Leon sounds dazed and fuck if Raihan doesn't want to tilt his head back to see what kind of face he's making right now.

"You know, all laying together. Piers and I lay on top of each other all the time. I know for a fact he wouldn't be opposed to adding you in."

Piers would be the opposite of opposed. He might throw a tiny fit over it because he isn't mentally prepared for full-on snuggling with both of them at once, but Piers could do with a little more spontaneity to keep him on his toes. There's no way he'd say no in the end, especially not when Raihan's caught him in Leon's lap before. The little minx.

He's just giving them a harmless little push. One that he benefits from, too.

"Yeah, that... sounds nice. Really nice. I don't know if I should, but... a pile sounds nice."

Hell does he mean, doesn't know if he should? He totally should. Must be the typical insecurity getting in his way. "That's the spirit. I know you'll like it. We'll be all over you if you want it, Lee."

He chuckles at the way Leon shivers against him. Cute.

He flexes and folds his wings back to their usual position, and blinks as his eyes adjust to the open light. Leon doesn't move from his spot, which is encouraging, but his shoulders are incredibly tense all of a sudden, which is... less encouraging. Raihan gives him a light poke on the side with his knuckle, and raises a brow when Leon stiffly shoots to his feet and takes a few equally-stiff steps away.

"No need for that, it's okay! I'll ah... I'll be fine without you two on me. Promise!" Leon takes a few steps away, in the complete opposite direction of home. Maybe that's the point?

He pushes to his feet and strides after him. "Hey, where are you going! I can take you there if you want."

Leon speeds up. "It's okay! You don't have to follow me!"

"I do if I don't want you to get lost."

"Raihan," Leon says in a weird, constricted tone. "I'll be okay. I just... You said Piers needs alone time right now and I think I need some time to think things over too. You can come find me later, so please..."

...Wait a second.

Raihan slows his pace to a stop and crosses his arms with a wide grin that Leon doesn't see.

"Sure, take all the time you need! I'm gonna check back on the house real quick and it'll probably take me, I dunno, an hour? Think you can survive by yourself for an hour?" He can barely keep his amusement out of his voice.

Leon waves over his shoulder and keeps on walking. His ears are so red. Raihan watches him for an indulgent amount of time before turning his back with a shake of his head.

Should have figured this would happen sooner or later. He's surprised it didn't happen sooner.

His smile fades as he turns towards home. He wasn't lying about checking in. Piers might need time to himself, but that doesn't mean Raihan can't stop by and see how his treasure is faring, if he needs or wants anything.

With another shake of his head and a bracing growl, he launches up and explodes through the trees, gaining effortless altitude as the wind welcomes him. The way Piers ran from the scene is fresh in his mind, as is the painfully blank expression that was on his mate's face.

If anything, the news that Leon's okay should be worth delivering. Piers wouldn't turn that away, even if he rejects everything else Raihan tries to offer.

The whole flight back, he keeps his ears keen for a call that never comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- You can find me on Twitter if you'd like, where I spout miscellanies about the lads and sometimes talk about my writing progress: [Bina_333](https://twitter.com/Bina_333)
> 
> \- Nessa's country, Catanan, is named after the flower Nessa is named after in the game: Cupid's Bow, aka Catananche Caerulea
> 
> \- I've made a [map of the territory!](https://twitter.com/Bina_333/status/1270199364502335488) It doesn't show the complete area, but does cover most of it. I'd like to think there are enough landmarks that you could trace the locations and various paths characters have taken in different chapters:
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: We venture into a part of the territory we haven't been to yet, the so-called Deep Wood, where magic things dwell. Wonder what's gonna go down in there...


	7. Sing What You Can't Say

As members of the same household, it's impossible for Piers to avoid Leon fully. It doesn't help that Leon's so integrated into the routine that he can't be dodged when their paths inevitably cross. Piers would love to take over all the household tasks again, handle them solo like he's used to doing, but he can't wrest all that responsibility back to himself without hurting feelings, and he's too good at that already, isn't he.

Piers tells himself that he dislikes it, that he can't slip away and out of Leon's life in order to grant him his best shot at peace and healing, but if there's one thing Piers is terrible at, it's lying to himself.

The best he can do is keep his presence minimal. To handle things quietly and swiftly, so Leon doesn't have to see more of him than necessary, and so Piers doesn't have to see Leon more than is necessary, as well. Piers can hardly stand looking at him sometimes, and forget about meeting his eyes. There's nothing there Piers wants to see, whether it's forgiveness or concern _(that you don't deserve)_ , or vacancy or tears _(going to turn your back on his pain again?)_...

It would be so much easier if he could snip his emotional ties and stop his feelings in their tracks, reverse them, reel them back in until it's like they were never cast at all, but Piers would rather cut his own voice out and never speak again than stop caring about the new light in his life.

Which is quite selfish, isn't it, when he personally snuffed it out once before.

He doesn't have the right to keep caring. He's told Raihan just as much.

\- - -

_"Oh... Y-You're back already..."_

_"...Sure am. How are you doing, baby?"_

_"Is he okay?"_

_"Leon's fine. Got him all taken care of. You don't have to worry about him, Piers, he's strong, and I think I did a good job helping him remember that."_

_"Good... Good, thank you. Knew you'd be able to help him better'n I could. Made the right choice leavin' him with you... Sorry for makin' it so sudden..."_

_"It's okay, I don't mind. I know you were feeling pretty terrible back there. Are you any better now?"_

_"..."_

_"...No?"_

_"How could I be, Raihan? I hurt him back there. Badly. The only thing I can take consolation in is knowin' he's in better hands than mine."_

_"Better? What? You can't mean—"_

_"Yes I bloody can. Better for him than me. You're not someone who reminds him of what he tried to run away from. D'you know what he called me before you came in? Sir! He called me sir! In his head, I was someone who hurt him! I_ was _hurtin' him, Raihan. I can’t do this anymore, not after seein' how easy it was for me to—to do that to him. I don't think I'm right for him, I'll end up hurtin' him again, I know it!"_

_"Treasure, no, it's not your fault! He doesn't blame you one bit and neither do I. It's not your f—"_

_"You can't say. That this wasn't my fault. I'm the one who made him play that stupid game, you understand? Just 'cause I wanted to have a little fun, like—like the fun you two have, how petty does that sound? I wanted to have fun with him in me own way and look what it fuckin' did to him, Rai! And it gets worse from there, see, 'cause I knew somethin' was wrong early on, I asked him to his face, but he said he was fine and I_ knew _he was lyin' but I let it 'appen because I was too far up me own arse to care enough to stop! I actually thought that I was doin' good! Thought it'd help, to not have a sick connivin' bastard be the last person he played against, and look at what happened regardless! Set him right face to face with someone he hates! I did that, me! Because I was selfish and let him get away with lyin' to my face because it benefitted me! This was completely my fault!"_

_"I'm telling you, it's not! Not any more than it is mine or Leon's, and neither of us!"_

_"Yours? How the hell were you responsible for makin' Leon flee in his mind?"_

_"I left you two alone when I shouldn't have. I should have been there, right next to you both. I'm sorry for leaving you two alone, but guess what! How could I have known what would happen! I may be sorry for it but it sure as hell isn't my fault. Just like it isn't yours either. As for Leon, he's certainly not responsible, but he's still sorry for lying. He knows he shouldn't have done it."_

_"Sorry? You're right that I won't accept your apology, because it's apologizin' for nothin', but you're sayin' Leon's sorry? Dinnae matter that he's sorry, when I'd already caught him in the act of lyin' and coulda done somethin' about it right there. But I didn't do shite. I let it 'appen, because I put my wants over his needs. I can't be good for him, Rai, this proved it. I shouldn'a done any o' this. I hurt him an' I know it'll happen again if this c-... if this con-continues."_

_"Piers... Baby, please don't cry... It'll be okay, I promise! I can fix this for you. I'll take care of everything, just let me—"_

_"S-Stop. Jus'... I know you care about me, and about him, but please don't go tryin' to fix every one of my problems fer me. Let me live with consequences for once. I need this to be a lesson."_

_"But I know I can make it better. I'll do anything for you, Piers, I can handle all your problems, take all your worries away, let me prove that to you."_

_"You think you haven't already? You have. So many times, love."_

_"Then why haven't... no, nevermind. Tell me what you plan on doing here, if I'm not allowed to help."_

_"What else is there to do but stop all my nonsense? I knew it was a bad idea from the start to try an' get too close. 'M just gonna... back out. You can have him, Rai, I know you really like 'im. You can care for him better'n I can. Get yourself one more treasure, 'm takin' meself out of it. 'S better for him that way..."_

_"You're doing this for his sake and not yours."_

_"So what."_

_"I think you're making the wrong decision is what. Don't pull back after coming this far, baby, it was going so well. You can still—"_

_"That's the bloody point, Rai. It was goin' oh so well, so fuckin' well, and all it took was my little screw-up to send Leon back to where he came from in his head! I cannae do that to him, Rai, I can't. I don't want to hurt him again... I know I'll hurt him again if I keep... k-keep..."_

_"Piers—"_

_"D-Don't. Don't touch me."_

_"Piers..."_

_"'M sorry. I know you want to help. I jus'... I can't right now."_

_"...Want me to leave you alone?"_

_"Please."_

_"Okay. That's fine, I can do that. If you ever need to talk to me, I'm always—"_

_"I know how it goes already."_

_"R-Right... Then uh... I left Leon out there, but I promised to give him a little alone time too, so... I guess I'll catch either of you later?"_

_"Seems so."_

_"..."_

_"...Just spit it out. Hate—Don't like it when you look at me like that without sayin' anythin'."_

_"Sorry. I just want what's best for you, baby. And what's best for Leon. They don't have to be different things. We can work through this, there's always other options than what seems best, especially to the you that's so hurt right now."_

_"...Mh."_

_"Alright. I've said all I can say, I'll stay out of your hair now. Bed's yours for as many nights as you need it."_

_"..."_

_"...?"_

_"...Bring him back safe. Please. He gets lost easy by himself..."_

_"Heh. Don't worry, Piersy, I'll make sure he's alright until you can, too. Don't think there's only one way out of this, alright? And don't think I won't push back if I see something bad going on. I love you, but you can't force me to stand back forever when I see you hurting. ...I get it, I get it, I'm going. Love you."_

_"...I love you, too."_

\- - -

It's always dark in the so-called deep woods, no matter how high the sun is in the sky. With the dense cloud cover currently blanketing the sky in rolling grey, it might as well be nighttime. Gloomy weather, just as Raihan predicted. Comforting weather, for Piers. Familiar skies and darkness always ease the part of him that aches for home, makes thinking and feeling a little easier.

Not doing him much good this time, though. No lack of light can soothe his soul after he personally robbed it from where it mattered most. He can still see in his mind's eye, how Leon's were so blank that day. Because Leon would rather retreat into his own mind than face the man in front of him. Rose, Piers, who cares who it really was in the moment. All that matters is that it doesn't happen again, and Piers is doing his part by not letting himself close enough to Leon to chance it.

As a result of his withdrawal, Leon's been spending time with Raihan instead. They get along splendidly, perfectly compatible. Raihan can give him all the closeness he needs. Hugs, touches... actual warmth. There's nothing Piers could give him that Raihan can't. Hell, the dragon can offer even more, bloody magnificent creature that he is.

It comforts as much as it hurts, knowing that the man he loves most is taking care of the one person Piers wishes to care for too. It hurts that everything he loves about Leon won't be open to him anymore, he closed that door himself, but it's comforting knowing that Raihan's the one who can have it.

Leon is radiant, and deserves more than some pale shadow trying to cling to him and drain him of everything good he has. He deserves someone capable of matching him in every way, and what better person is there, that isn't Raihan? The sweetest, biggest-hearted, most understanding person Piers has ever met. Scarily generous, sometimes. Scarily devoted. An infinitely better match for Leon all the same.

Piers leans back against the mossy trunk of one of the larger trees in the wood, taking shelter beneath its midnight canopy. The trees here are ancient, massive, and twisted, their canopies dense and sprawling with branches so hard and tangled it would take Raihan's full-bodied, roaring glory to break straight through. Raihan would never destroy such noble trees unwarranted. Needless destruction goes against a dragon's very purpose; according to what Raihan told him once, it's their god's job, not theirs, to destroy. Raihan would never sacrifice these healthy branches unless it was an emergency. Means he's safe here even from his partner.

The gnarled roots of this particular tree, thick as a man's torso and twisting in on themselves, make a nice place to sit hidden from view in the forest's eternal darkness. This is the best place to be alone peacefully. It may be eerily quiet here, but it's a silence that's alive. A silence that's maintained.

Only a few things are allowed to make active noise here without being made unwelcome. Makes it the most peaceful place in the world, which is exactly what Piers needs right now. Just a bit of peace. Fighting his own desires, taking arms against his mind, trying to master himself for Leon's sake, it's exhausting. Takes more out of him than he would have expected. So he ran, and came here, where his thoughts are allowed to be quiet. Where he can be alone, yet not alone, in this dark, soft place, and sing into its living void.

It starts as a hum. Quiet at first but building into a known melody. Some foreign thing he picked up on while traveling. A sweet tune, a bit sad. A bit mournful. Exactly the kind of thing he needs to pour out the feelings clouding his head. He needs this before he can go back and be around them again.

Little lights dart through the trees, assessing him from a safe distance, and once they affirm who he is, they zip closer and hover within arm's reach. A few little sprites rest on the nearby roots, and one is bold enough to come hang from his finger when he holds a hand out.

Cute little things... They've taken a liking to him ever since he first met them. Good thing, too, since if they didn't like him, they'd stop being cute. Sprites are capricious, and can be downright nasty to anyone they see as a nuisance. Part of why he's always played it safe and kept Leon away from these woods. Guess Raihan will have to be the one to show him around now...

Right now, they're content to hang around and listen as he sings on his gnarled wooden throne. If he strains his ears, he can hear their high-pitched whispers, especially from the few playing hide-and-seek in his hair.

_"Sad?"_

_"Why sad?"_

_"Pretty listen still."_

_"Can fix?"_

_"Why care. Listen!"_

He won't bother answering their whispers. Much as they might be fond of him, they don't talk to humans. If Raihan were here, they'd be able to communicate. And if Leon were here...

No, forget about him. He's here to vent and make himself feel better, not worse.

Piers tilts his head back, mindful of the creatures, and raises his voice to sing all the dark parts of his heart out.

* * *

Raihan takes care as he stalks through the darkness.

There's nothing in his territory that can hurt him, but this particular area deserves extra caution. It's the gem of his territory, his greatest pride. Other than the two humans he's proud to call his, of course.

The darkness and weight of the magic in the air bids that he tread carefully. This whole place drips with raw magic. It clings to the moss and stone and dark-wooded bark like mist, pools within knotted roots and low spots within the earth, weaves through the air in the closest thing this place has to a breeze.

If he wanted, he could exercise his right as this land's master and pull it all to himself, spin it into something usable and tuck it away for future use, but he's got plenty of magic at his beck and call already. He has no need for any more, nor does he see a need to disturb this place's natural stores. It's thanks to all this unprocessed magic that the forest is able to host the special creatures that it does, and the deeper he ventures, the more glimpses he catches. Glimmers of light through the gnarled, moss-draped branches are the first sign of magical life. They scatter and vanish after a few moments of hovering, no doubt fleeing to gossip and spread the word that he's here, the dragon's here, what could he be here for?

It's... two things.

First, just as he predicted, the battle for dominance between the two unicorn stallions finally came to an end. The winner sent the loser running for his life, chasing him so far that he left the bounds of Raihan's territory. Thankfully, the victor was the sire of the baby already born last month. No need to worry for the little thing's life anymore. But, because he wants to make sure everything's alright, he's here to check it out regardless.

The second, more pressing reason regards the other precious things he needs to watch over.

True to his word, Raihan left Piers space to navigate himself. They haven't shared a bed in days. It's not inconvenient, since dragons aren't creatures meant to reside indoors anyways, but he misses being able to hold his treasure through the night and wake him up with kisses and whispers of love. Piers must be so cold without him there.

Unlike all the other recent times Raihan could leave Piers alone, he can no longer take comfort in knowing his treasure has companionship while he's gone.

Piers hasn't said a single friendly word to Leon since that day. He talks, yeah, answers questions and provides comments when prompted, but his voice isn't the same. It's agonizingly reserved. Raihan thought his partner already had problems with overthinking, but it's gotten so much worse that Piers barely expresses his true self anymore. Like he's so lost between his options that he puts forth the safest, blandest thing. It's the opposite of who Piers is, and it's painful to see. He misses the fire, the passion, the unapologetic way his partner speaks his mind. Fear of hurting Leon is stifling the parts of Piers' nature he loves the most.

Not even the usual basket from their singular contact outside the territory could cheer his partner up. That farmer always sneaks some extra treat in along with the essentials and yesterday was no exception, but Piers barely gave the baked-whatever a glance. It took a while for Raihan to notice Piers' diminished appetite, given that he still cooks. For Leon. Because despite the distance Piers is enforcing, he stays close enough to ensure Leon's taken care of. Because he still cares.

Leon's been... alright. Clearly shaken by the continued cold shoulder, but not losing himself thanks to Raihan reassuring him that all Piers needs is a little more time. He's thrown himself into anything physical he can, training his body, drilling with his sword, asking for more and more sparring sessions that have lost their shine in terms of mutual enjoyment.

Raihan does his best to offer the type of companionship Piers always did, but he knows it's not the same. He's no replacement, and can't hope to offer the same things that Piers can, that Leon loves so much. There's something special about the way those two care for each other and get along. Their spirits mesh so well, and trying to take Piers' place feels awkward and inappropriate and he's already given up on being anything but himself to Leon. If what he is isn't enough, then Leon needs Piers too.

It's nothing but frustrating, because they don't have to be like this. If only Piers would let him intervene and sit them down, set them straight, and _fix this_ so they can all hurry up and be happy again, then Raihan would have done it by now. But no, his mate wants to try his hand at what he thinks is best and look at where it's taking them. Nowhere.

He respects Piers and understands the thought process behind wanting to pull away from Leon, but he respectfully disagrees with it and respectfully thinks it's a terrible fucking idea.

If only Piers would let him handle everything... Trust isn't the issue. He knows Piers trusts him. He knows that Piers thinks him perfectly capable of handling everything, too. He said it himself, that Raihan's already proved himself, over and over. Despite all that, Piers still pushes him away sometimes. His mate's independent streak is something to be admired, but he wishes Piers would rely on him when it matters most.

Or maybe Piers thinks that Raihan should leave him alone when it matters most...

Raihan lets out a single low hiss between his teeth. The sound doesn't travel very far; this forest is good at swallowing up sounds and keeping things quiet.

Alone time has worked in the past for Piers' thoughts to untangle. Piers hates being pursued, prefers being given the freedom to come closer or step back as he pleases. Raihan's happy to give him that freedom, knowing that Piers always comes to him in the end, but it's not just about him anymore. Piers needs to come to Leon, too.

He's about reached the limits of his tolerance. He told Leon about the need to wait for Piers to sort himself out, but there's been no sign of this letting up. Piers isn't getting better on his own. Raihan will have to intervene soon, save his treasure from himself. He can't stand watching this go on for much longer.

He comes to a halt and soothes his own hackles, calms his frustration. He still has a job to do and this feels like the right spot. He can sense what he's looking for nearby. Raihan glances around the maze of mossy boulders and twisted trees, and pinpoints a sliver of white.

"You can come out. You know I'm not here to hurt you."

A white nose pokes around a gnarled tree, and after giving the air a single sniff, a tiny head peers out to appraise him.

The filly is barely a month old. Her horn is a stubby little thing on her forehead, barely poking out of an impressively fluffy mane. Born during a sunrise, according to the pink and pale sky of it, same as her mum.

She picks her way closer and stops once she's in the open, head bowed and tail flicking. Healthy and unafraid, a relief to see.

He slowly takes a knee in the leaf litter. "Hey there, little gal... Doing just fine, aren't you?”

The tiny filly paws at the ground, uneasy with her mother absent but not afraid of him. He was there when she was delivered, she knows his scent. Even if she didn't, instinct would tell her that Raihan's someone safe to be around. Benefits of being the protector of the land.

"Wish I could say the same for myself." He sighs and rests his arm over his bent knee. "You don't have to deal with relationship problems. Enjoy that while it lasts."

Her ear flicks and she tilts her head. Those large eyes say a hundred different things. Statements, questions, feelings, some more at the forefront than others. Raihan appraises her until she gives him one thing to focus on.

"The newcomer? You heard about him already? He's human, but you can trust him too. Leon's just as kind as Piers."

She perks up and trots closer, mane bouncing, no longer wary after hearing Piers' name. It's not surprising she knows of him already. Piers would hang around her mum before she was born, and sing to them both. The dragon's always been proud that his beloved integrates so well with the magical world. A worthy partner for a dragon.

"You can meet them both sometime, once they get over this... problem. Not sure when that'll be, but hey." He gustily sighs and pets her neck. "At least they both still want each other."

He will never not think it ridiculous that two people who want each other can stay apart like this. Leon's doing what he can, and would happily take Piers into his arms again. It's Piers who needs to step forth willingly. He can refuse Raihan's direct help as much as he wants, but like hell can any dragon allow their loved one to suffer without lifting a claw.

A tiny light speeds past and startles the unicorn, dodging around them and vanishing behind a cluster of massive trees. He strokes her neck to soothe her and stares at where the light fled.

Weird... The sprites never get that excited, unless...

The song reaches him, weaving through the trees, coming from the same direction the little light was blazing towards. It's mournful, sweet, with a clear note of anger that reminds Raihan of the very first time he heard Piers sing. The unapologetic emotion drew his curiosity as he happened to be flying overhead, and he had to dive down and investigate, because what could have happened to a creature to make them cry out in such anguish?

This time he needs not guess. And this time, it's not him who’ll follow that tormented song. Someone else needs to chase it and see what they might do about the reason for it being sung.

The unicorn's head strains towards the direction of the music, ears perked directly forward, body quivering.

It pains him to say this, but... "I need you to stay right here. I'll be right back."

She dances in place and tosses her head with a whicker of protest.

"Promise it'll be quick. We can see him together when the time is right." He faces back the way he came. "First, I need to help the people I care about. This has gone on long enough."

* * *

For the first time in Piers' life, singing is failing him.

He tries to compensate by going louder, rougher, picking more violent songs from his vast mental library of music, but none of it releases the pressure around his chest. The forest eats every note, cry, and call with nary an echo, and the sprites respond to his agitation by flitting about more erratically, upset at his dark mood yet too intrigued to fly away.

Why isn't this working? Singing always helps, always. He doesn't know what he'll do if his failsafe emotional outlet stops working. He just needs to keep at it. He'll sing until he's hoarse if it means he can breathe again and be around Leon without hurting.

Then again, who cares if he's hurting as long as his loved ones are okay. He matters less, they matter more. As long as they're okay, his suffering is trivial.

Piers' nails dig into soft bark and he growls through his teeth, abandoning the music of other people and switching straight into singing whatever messy, dissonant notes push forth from the messy, dissonant depths of his soul. Yes, this is better, this is what he needs, to wail and cry in his own wordless language and get it all out as thoroughly as possible.

A rustle interrupts everything. Piers cuts himself off, the sprites scatter, and everything is dark and quiet once more, save for his heavy breathing.

"Who's there." His voice is rough, a remnant of his forceful singing.

"...Piers?"

That voice is a knife to his throat.

He twists and emerges partially from his hiding spot, not wanting to believe his ears, and accidentally meets a golden gaze. The instant their eyes lock, his heart reminds him why he shouldn't be looking. He sits back against the base of the tree.

What's Leon doing here? How did he find this place? There's no way he wandered here by chance. Not without cheater's luck or a guide to hold his hand. Or maybe Leon's sense of direction is so warped that it reliably takes him to the last places he should be. And right now, that's anywhere close to Piers.

He swallows and grips the roots around him. "How did you get here."

"I just... followed the sound of your voice."

So he heard all that ugliness, then. Unfortunate, but, nothing to do about it now...

Piers peeks around the twisted trunk again. Leon's scanning the dark woods like he knows he shouldn't be here, curiosity at war with his instinctive caution.

"You shouldn't be this far in by yourself. It's dangerous."

Leon takes a step closer. There's no sword at his hip. "All the more reason for me to be here. I can't leave you alone knowing that."

Piers grits his teeth. He can't ignore Leon's presence and find a new spot to be alone without risking Leon's safety. If he wants him out of these woods, he'll have to escort him out.

"Dangerous for you, not for me." Before Leon can take another step closer, Piers rises and starts marching without giving him a second glance. "This way. I'll show you out."

The dense, damp leaf litter sinks and springs back beneath their feet as they walk. Whole place smells like petrichor. Dark, soft, and safe, yet unable to protect him from threats born from within.

The distance between them aches like a bruise with every step. He's never walked with Leon so out of reach. His body is warring with his mind again, wanting to take him closer, to walk side by side and take Leon's hand. To guide him securely. It's never been harder to walk straight.

All his singing was useless, he's stressed all over again. This tense silence isn't helping. Piers pulls his hair over one shoulder and smooths it out as they walk. Cheaply-disguised fidgeting.

"What were those lights around you?"

Answering Leon's questions is second nature, and filling the silence with this safe, neutral topic feels nice. "Wood sprites. Little person-shaped insect things. They're mischievous at best and nasty at worst, so don't piss 'em off. Buggers got sharp claws and go fer the eyes."

"They seemed to not be bothering you. Do they like you?"

"They like my singin'," he corrects. "Don't think they care for any people overall."

They come to a large fallen tree. Leon strides ahead and climbs atop it, and holds a hand out for him to take, to be helped up. Piers ignores it. He takes a short dash of his own and easily vaults up and over the trunk, landing smoothly into a stroll and leaving Leon to hop down after him.

"I can see why they were attracted. Your singing is very beautiful," Leon softly says.

"...Even what you walked in on?"

Messy, wordless vocalizing, given life thanks to the man keeping pace alongside him and nodding.

"I liked that especially. It was intense, like..." Piers waits on the rest of Leon's thoughts, more anxious than he should be to get his opinion. "Like you were communicating something vital. Not to me, but it still felt like I could understand it."

Leon takes the initiative on walking a little closer. On Piers' other side is a set of mossy boulders. There's no escaping the proximity. Part of him is relieved for it, and another, louder part of him is scolding himself for feeling that relief.

"Would it be a bother if I asked you to sing again? While we walk?"

"N—Dunno," he blatantly redirects, cursing himself for answering without thinking first.

"Please? I've missed hearing your voice."

Piers makes the mistake of looking at him. The single second of eye contact is a pocket of eternity and wrenching himself free comes at the cost of leaving part of himself behind.

_Damn him. Damn him and damn me for being so weak for him._

"If you insist."

A walking song... Ugh, all the ones coming to mind are either too vulgar and cheery for his mood, or love tales, which he's also not in the mood for.

"Any particular requests?" He sighs and hops over a thread of a creek.

"I don't think I can name anything you'd know..."

Pride in his own musical memory pushes Piers' suppressed tongue into moving. "I know lots of songs. More than hundreds. Made it a habit growin' up to always ask for new ones from all around the world, and I picked up on a lot durin' my travels with Raihan. Try me."

Leon fidgets and dodges his gaze, exuding the aura of having something he's dying, yet scared, to ask.

"If I hummed something for you, is there a chance you'd know it?"

Now this is intriguing.

"What've you got?"

Leon licks his lips and fiddles his hands together. "It's not much. I only remember a little part of it. It was like..."

Leon's slowed so much that he's no longer keeping pace. Piers stops as well, and turns to face his suddenly-contemplative companion.

With his eyes on the ground, Leon sings under his breath. His voice is sweet, but without confidence as it lays out notes one by one. Piers leans closer, eyes closed. The tune is vaguely familiar... Reminds him of several lullabies... Leon's from Rhondeland, which rules some out, depending on where he heard it.

"I don't know the rest, sorry... I used to, but I've forgotten most of it."

"No, no, it's alright. I think I..." His brow furrows. "Sing that again."

This time, Leon hums, and a song writes itself across Piers' memory to pick up where the humming left off. It may or may not be the right song, but he owes it to his friend to try.

"Do you know it? The words? The full thing, maybe?" Something in Leon's whisper slips past the bars around his heart and tugs.

Rather than answer in speech, he nods, eyes still closed, and answers in quiet song.

_"Sea says goodnight..."_

It's a simple melody, with simple words, but Piers has to think far ahead to recall the exact lyrics by the time they need to come out of his mouth.

_"Ate up the light... Helping it rest, 'til it's time to—"_

"Piers," Leon chokes out.

He opens his eyes and shuts up. Leon's expression is pinched tight, brows furrowed in distress and arms wrapped around himself. His eyes are shining.

_You've done it again._

His insides vanish and fear floods the void with self-hatred on its heels to fill him full to bursting, because he's doing it again, he's made Leon cry again without thinking, he swore to himself never again and yet—and yet—

"Please keep going." Leon hides his tears behind a scarred hand and whispers. "I need this. Please."

Piers stands rooted to the ground, hands frozen at his sides instead of reaching out to comfort. He couldn't speak even if he wanted to. His singing did this.

After choking on his silence for too long, Leon peeks at him, assesses him through watery eyes, and comes closer. Piers goes full rigor mortis. He wants to walk away, he wants to stay, he wants to comfort Leon but doesn't trust himself to do so. It'd be better for Leon to keep his distance, but if he's coming closer willingly, shouldn't his will be respected even if it's foolish?

_Sounds like an excuse,_ Piers derides himself. An excuse to be selfish and stand here and let Leon come closer because he missed it so much.

A rough touch, warm as he remembered, grabs his hand and lifts it, and clasps it tight with a shake. "Piers... Keep going, please. You're the only one who can give this to me. I never thought I'd hear that song again. Please, I need this from you..."

The begging breaks through his stress-induced stasis. Leon... needs him. It must be a really important song. Piers understands how deep music can run inside someone, he can't deny Leon this.

"A-Alright." He tugs at his hand, but Leon refuses to let go. He can't tell if he's grateful for it or not. A dozen apologies sit on his tongue for worrying him so, but they're not priority. He can set his feelings aside one more time to do this for Leon. "From the top, then."

He keeps his eyes open as he sings, in a soft, low tone that feels most appropriate for a lullaby like this, sung to someone standing so close. Leon stares hard at his chest, still clutching his hand. Looking lost in memory but determined to stay present to not miss a single note or breath.

_Sea says goodnight  
Ate up the light  
Helping it rest  
Til its time again to shine_

Piers' voice falters when Leon squeezes his eyes shut and his face tightens, but he keeps singing. He's not hurting Leon. This is okay. Leon needs this. He's the only one who can do this for him.

_Dark waters flow  
Carry you home  
Be like the sun  
And sink below, down below_

A few whimpers nearly stay his voice again. Leon's... oh, love, poor thing is trying to hum along. Too choked up to do it properly.

Something abhorrently hopeful flitters round his heart and chases away the heaviness there. He hardly realizes he's reaching out until Leon's soft cheek is beneath his palm. The grip around his other hand tightens until it almost hurts.

_Hush in the waves  
They'll keep you safe  
Guarding your light  
Come morning you'll shine again_

The last note lingers in the air between them and fades like smoke. All he can hear now is his friend's strained breathing. He should probably withdraw, take his hand off Leon's cheek, but... he can't. This feels right. He can still do good things for Leon even after hurting him.

_But are the good parts worth giving when you'll force painful things on him too? Is it worth it? Worth the risks?_

_...Are those questions yours to answer?_

Eventually, the steel grip loosens, and Leon rubs his face into Piers' touch. His facial hair has grown out some, rough against his palm. He looks so peaceful...

"I never thought I'd hear that song again," Leon confides into his hand. "Someone would sing it to me long ago, when I was little. My mother, I think. After so many years, I only remembered how it started, and lost all the words... It's amazing that you knew it."

Piers thumbs a streak of wetness away from his cheek. "I told you, I know many songs. I'm glad one of them was yours."

"Thank you... I would have forgotten the whole thing eventually, if it weren't for you. Thank you for giving it back to me."

Gods below, how was he able to stay away for so long?

Piers licks his lips and hazards a promise. "I'll sing it whenever you want to hear it. You'll never forget again. Not if I can help it."

Head bowed, Leon shuffles closer. His arms are opening, and oh...

Can he...?

Is it okay?

Just one shouldn't hurt, and if Leon asks for more later, it shouldn't hurt to go along with his wishes...

Before Piers can open his posture and meet Leon halfway for a hug, Leon's eyes drift up, stick on something behind him, and go wide. Alarm rings through Piers' body and he whirls around, placing himself directly in front of Leon with his arms out protectively, expecting the worst and finding... a tiny horse. No, that's the baby unicorn Raihan's mentioned offhandedly multiple times, whose mother Piers has spent time with before. He's seen a stallion in the distance once, sunset mane catching the light like fire. This makes the third one he's laid eyes on, which makes him one of the most fortunate humans this side of the world, no doubt.

Her white coat nearly glows in the dark it's so pristine. She looks to be all alone. Why's she here?

"She heard you singing and couldn't resist coming to meet you." Raihan appears from the darkness behind her, ducking below a winding branch so his horns and wings don't catch on it. "I followed her here. Hope we didn't interrupt anything."

Leon's presence in the forest suddenly makes sense. That tricky dragon...

"Nothin' you weren't hopin' to see, I'm sure," he says with surprisingly little venom.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

_Liar._

He gives Raihan a hard look and finds it easily met. Not a mote of remorse clouds that clear blue gaze. They both know that Piers could easily call him out, and that Raihan wouldn't lie a second time if pressed.

"I-Is that a... a real..."

Piers looks over his shoulder. Leon's eyes are wide like he's afraid to miss a single detail by not having them open enough. His hand twitches to reach out, and the filly snorts and paws at the ground, appraising the two humans with her large, dark eyes.

Raihan's meddling can wait to be addressed. Piers sighs and turns around, placing himself at Leon's side and nudging his arm down. "Sure is. Told you there was all sorts o' things livin' around here. Skulkin' about." He fires another glance at his partner at that last bit.

"She's so beautiful," Leon whispers in awe, oblivious to anything else.

Raihan chuckles and steps up behind the wee thing. Her ears twist back to track the dragon, but she doesn't startle. "That she is. Perfectly healthy and strong. I'm glad she was born, there's too few of these creatures left. Imagine my pleasant surprise when I discovered my territory had a few."

Awful suspect that Raihan isn't trying to talk about _the problem_ yet. Playing it like this is all coincidence and not part of some plan he has. Fine, two can play at that game. Piers will humor him and play along until Raihan decides to show his true hand. He doesn't have the heart to interrupt Leon's moment, anyhow...

Leon slowly crouches and sits in the leaf litter, legs folded beneath him, back perfectly straight. Piers' hand automatically caresses the soft purple head and lingers there. He almost retracts his touch once he realizes what he's doing, but it's too late, Raihan's seen it, and moving his hand now would only give him something to comment on.

"I've never seen one in real life before. All the paintings I've seen don't do them justice." The unicorn's staring right at Leon, like she knows he's talking about her. Probably does. "Is it common for the babies to be left alone? Is she fine by herself? Where's her mother?"

The familiar wave of Leon's curiosity washes over Piers and soothes more edges from his heart. Wonder-mode Leon... He's missed it so much, this light in his eyes.

_Light you can't be trusted with._

Raihan crouches to mirror, and pats the unicorn on the flank. "If the area is safe, the mother feels alright leaving her baby behind to go stretch her legs and forage in places her baby can't follow her yet. There's no place safer than under a dragon's wings."

"Ma left you on babysittin' duty, is what that means."

"Exactly!"

Unperturbed by the exchange going on over her head, the filly continues her staring contest with Leon, who seems content to stare right back. In this new silence, it's only a matter of time...

"So..." Raihan idly strokes the cloud-like mane. "Feeling better, Piers?"

There it is. He knew it.

Piers takes a stiff step away, hand curled to his chest and rubbing away the lingering sensation of soft hair. "I..."

He's saved from having to answer by the unicorn crossing the space up to them. She stops just out of reach of Leon, flicks her tail, and then trots around to investigate Piers instead. She noses at him, insistent for attention.

She heard his singing, is what Raihan said. Wanted to meet him.

Her mane is softer than goose down, and her little nose is like velvet against the back of his hand. Those big black eyes are inquisitive, and despite the lack of visible pupil, Piers gets the sense that she's looking over at Leon, and her ears give the rest away.

"I get it..." He pushes Raihan out of mind, partially out of spite. "You want an introduction?"

She whinnies and steps in place. Seems as good a yes as any.

"This is Leon. He's..." He hesitates. A dozen things are behind his lips, options to give the baby her first impression. That Leon's a wonderful man, that he's safe, that he's caring and gentle, that there's nothing to fear around him...

Leon's gazing up at him now, not the unicorn, and this time Piers doesn't disengage. "He's... a very dear friend o' mine," he quietly says. "And I know you'll like him a lot."

Soft fur slips from under his hand as the baby approaches Leon at least. His heart is thrumming like a bird's and it only gets worse thanks to the gorgeous smile Leon gives him before turning his attention to his new little friend.

He doesn't react when scaled arms slip around his waist from behind, nor when a thin tail carefully curls around his leg.

"He misses you," ghosts along his ear. "Needs you."

He sucks in a breath and presses his hands over the arms on his waist. "Does not. Take that back."

Leon's busy letting the unicorn poke her face all over him, delight written all over his features. Beautiful. Sacred. He'd only ruin it if he came too close.

"I can't. It's his truth, not mine." The tips of Raihan's tongue flick against his earlobe. "Talk to him and find out straight from the source. I promise you'll like it."

"I need none of your advice," he hisses.

"You want none of my action, either. Take his if you won't take mine. Let him close enough to talk. I'm tired of this."

"You fuckin' what—"

"What are you two talking about?"

Shit. He forgot to keep things under his breath. Leon's staring at them in concern, one hand resting on the unicorn's back as it noses into his hair.

"I already forgot," Raihan cheerily says. "What were we talking about again, baby?"

He grits his teeth and walks straight out of the hold, away from both of them and away from Raihan's blatant trap. The tail around his leg easily unwinds to let him go. "My memory's as bad as yours."

"Guys..." Leon rises and looks between them with a bitten lip. He settles his gaze on Raihan, and the two share a look that has Piers on edge. "We really do need to talk about something."

"I couldn't agree more. Well, Piers? No better time than the present."

These rotten conspirators. Cornering him like this.

He crosses his arms tight and backs away another step so he can watch them both without turning his head. "Enlighten me then. What could we possibly need to talk about."

He's fixed in place by an honest gaze of gold, impossibly tarnished by hurt.

"I miss you, Piers."

If that wasn't a punch to the throat. His mouth opens to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

"Piers..." Leon steps closer, leaving his new little friend behind. Piers maintains the distance. Almost stumbles over the ground. "I don't know what you need from me, but if you tell me, I can help you. I want to help with whatever's been weighing on your mind."

"I..." He forces his dry throat to swallow. "Want you to be happy. That's all."

"What? Then why have you been so distant lately? That can't be it." Leon looks genuinely lost. It strikes him that he's kept so well to himself that Leon has no clue why he has. Thinks he's been distant for no good reason. Raihan must not have told him...

"I mean, happy without me." He reaches up and fiddles with his locket. Gods, this hurts. "You don't need me close. You have Raihan. He can do a better job of takin' care of you than I can."

"I still don't understand why..."

He tugs the chain taut and backs away another step. "I hurt you. That's why. And I can't stand to do it again, not when it was so easy the first time. I know I'll only invite more pain your way if I keep doin' what I was doin'. So I... I stopped."

Leon halts, horror overtaking his expression. "That's why you haven't been talking to me? Raihan, did you know about this?"

Now it's the dragon's turn to falter. Piers takes petty satisfaction in watching it happen. "W-Well... I didn't think it would help if I told you why he was avoiding you..."

"Are you serious?" Leon helplessly asks. "You told me he just needed time, that's why I waited!" His head whips back to face him. "If I knew you were trying to stay away from me I'd have... I'd have chased you!"

"That's why I didn't tell you," Raihan growls. "Piers needs space. Chase him and he'll run."

"Then I'll run faster." The conviction in Leon's voice puts a shiver up his spine.

Raihan's eyes flash with displeasure, but he doesn't contest it. Instead, he shifts his attention to Piers, challenging him to confirm or deny in his stead.

Piers tests his breathing, making sure it's even. "Raihan's right. It'd do you no good." He has to look away before the fresh hurt in Leon's eyes breaks him. "I know it's better if we don't get too close, when it was so easy for me to hurt you without thinkin'. Who's to say it won't keep happenin', that I remind you too much of _him_ again? That'd break me own heart, Leon, I can't hurt you again!"

_Like you're not doing it right fuckin' now. You're so good at this, aren't you._

The calm, misty air seems to sour. They're testing their welcome here, but with Raihan around there's nothing the forest can do to explicitly express its unease. The unicorn has backed away, static as a statue behind a mossy trunk.

"I'm sorry for what happened that day, Piers. I hurt you too." The gentleness in Leon's voice isn't fair. "It wasn't right of me to conflate you with Rose in the moment. I know you're not him. It wasn't you who hurt me, it was him, never you!"

"Fact remains that I reminded you so much of your father that you—"

"The fact that you care so much about what I feel makes you different! You're not him, and I'm so sorry that I put you two together in my head. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it was my faul—" A snarl cuts him off and he pauses. "...I didn' mean to set you up for relivin' a nightmare. Might not have meant to, but it's still wha' I did." He glares at his partner.

"I know you didn't mean to. I really did want to give the game a shot, for your sake. You do so much for me every day, Piers, I wanted to do something for you too. I- I'm sorry I couldn't. That I only made you worry, and made you feel like you have to stay away from me..." Leon presses his hand against his head, teeth bared at himself. "If I just kept it together, this wouldn't have happened."

What... Leon thinks this is on him? No, that's ridiculous, he did nothing wrong, he can't help how his trauma clings to him, it's Piers' fault for agitating it in the first—

"Whatever you're thinking, cut it out. Both of you." Raihan growls. "It's nobody's fault. Just because it could have been prevented doesn't mean it's always someone's fault that it did happen. I'm tired of this!" Raihan's wings shudder and draw low. "Wanna know what hurts me? Watching you two blame yourselves over and over, hurting when you don't have to be in pain. I... I feel like I'm failing you somehow when I can't take care of you two together. We're a group, aren't we? I don't like feeling that you two are split up. It feels wrong and I want to make it better, but I can't! I don't know what more I can do that won't make either of you angry or sad! I just want you two to be happy together. Or what's the fucking point of all this?"

Raihan's pained snarl rips through to his bones and scrapes away all the things that no longer matter. Going by how shaken Leon looks, he felt the same.

"You two are so important to me. Piers, I love you so much, I want to give you the world and everything in it. Leon, I can't name what I feel for you yet, but I cherish you just as much. I know you two care about each other so strongly. Piers, you wouldn't be trying to stay away from Leon if you didn't care so much about his wellbeing, and Leon wouldn't miss you so bad if he didn't care either! We all care about each other! I know we can get over this, we have to! But it won't fucking work unless you two drop your useless guilt and put all that energy towards fixing the actual problem since I can't do it for you!"

Raihan looks a twitch away from destroying something. His tail is lashing behind him, wings tense and shivering, breathing deep and labored through clenched fangs, with his hands tensed into claws.

"Rai..." he whispers. Piers wants nothing more than to run to him, hold his face and soothe him. But that wouldn't be fixing the actual problem.

He needs to do this, for Raihan's sake if no one else's.

Leon takes the first step towards him, and unlike before, Piers doesn't back away. Holding still isn't good enough, though, is it? He tears his eyes away from his agonized partner and forces a step. Then another. And with momentum gathered, it's easier to stride closer and meet Leon halfway until they're nearly chest to chest but still not touching. His hands are itching to reach out.

"Leon... I..."

"Please don't run away from me," Leon whispers. "For any reason. I want to be by your side."

Piers is trembling, whether from hope or fear, he doesn't know. "Even after I caused you pain?"

"It was an accident. I never once held it against you, I know you'd never want to hurt me. Knowing that you wanted to be distant from me does hurt, but... we can stop that, right?"

He nods in mute agreement. Staying away was hurting him too. Not that it matters as much.

"Do you know how much you've helped me, by being close? How much you've given me?" Leon takes his hands and pries them out of their fists enough to force his fingers into the space. Piers holds on almost desperately. "One accident doesn't change how much you've helped me heal."

The same arguments and insecurities that plagued him all this time clamor to be heard anew. Leon's rough hands keep them at bay, but one of them still slips through his mouth.

"Raihan can help you just as well as I can. You don't need me when you've got him, he can do things I could never do. He's better for you."

“No. Nobody can replace you, Piers. Raihan's special to me and so are you, but you aren't interchangeable. There's things only you can do. Remember earlier? Your song? I... I need Raihan, I do, but I need you too, and I want to give you both everything I can. So please... stay with me?"

He's forgotten how to breathe, so all he does is nod. Strong arms wrap around him and squeeze him so tight that breathing would be useless anyways, and it feels so good, so right, that once he remembers he has usable arms, he returns the hug and buries his face into Leon's neck. He missed this so much. He missed Leon, touching him, holding him, talking to him and confiding in him and laughing with him. He's still scared of hurting him, but the next time it happens, they'll weather it together instead of apart. All three of them.

A low rasp of a growl sneaks between them. They pull apart enough to share a glance, and Piers all but hauls Leon behind him as he rushes towards his partner.

Raihan doesn't react much when Piers crashes into his chest. "I'm so sorry, love. Had my head up me own arse, I didn't see how much this was hurtin' you too."

He reaches up and cups his face, but meets resistance when he tries to tilt his lover's head down. He's staring stubbornly straight ahead, face a mask of stone, and Piers' heart twists because he knows what all that means.

Raihan always wants to be strong for him. For them, now that Leon's here too, but he doesn't always have to be.

"Raihan..." He grips a horn and uses the weight of his body to force the dragon to look down at him. "Thank you, for pushin' us. This can't have been easy for you. You do so much for us, more than you have to. What can we do for you? Right here, right now?"

The mask cracks and Raihan's body sheds its steel tension. Piers lets go of the horn and pushes himself further into the warm space, gesturing for Leon to come too. The world shrinks down between a pair of large wings. Everything is calm and quiet once more, inside and out.

"Let me hold you both," Raihan pleads.

"Aye, we can do that." He feels around for Leon's hand and grabs it, pulls it up and holds it against Raihan's chest. "Anytime you need us, love."

The three of them find themselves on the soft ground, Raihan with his back against a tree with low, twisted branches, Piers in his lap, and Leon carefully leaning against his side. The dragon has his arms around them both. How long's it been since they've cuddled? Feels like it's been ages since he last had Raihan around him...

Piers twists until he's sitting sideways, cheek resting on his partner's warm shoulder, so he can look straight at Leon. He seems nervous. Is it the arm around his waist? Or does he not feel like he fits in?

He catches Leon's gaze, then his hand, and pulls it close to his chest and folds his arm around it, happy to have warmth from them both. He was stupid to try and stay away from this...

"Still here, little one?" Raihan's observation has him lifting his head.

The unicorn is picking her way towards them, ears back and steps small. They must have scared her with all their screaming... She's a brave one to have stuck so close to two humans raising their voices. Her legs fold beneath her. She lies down near Raihan's legs, tucks her head in, and closes her eyes.

"Glad she still likes us," Piers says. "Wouldn'a blamed her if she wanted nothin' to do with us after that."

"Unicorns are forgiving. That's why there's so few left."

Leon's brow furrows. Piers relaxes against a warm chest again, and cuddles Leon's hand under his chin.

Next time they do this, it should be on a bed. This isn't so bad, though. It's dim and quiet, and... oh. It's starting to rain. He can hear it, the light droplets hitting the dense canopy above them, unable to breach quite yet. Now it really feels like home.

"Mind if I sing us one more thing?"

The arm around his middle squeezes its yes, while Leon shifts even closer against Raihan's side. Flattering that they want to hear this much. He'd better make it good.

"This one's from home. It's very special to me."

The rain provides a pleasant, thrumming backdrop all around them as Piers clears his mind and starts to sing, softly at first, and building as he slips into the memories the music provides.

Staring out over rolling hills, islands in the pooling fog, close and far away at the same time, thanks to the blur of the mist and rain. Leaning against someone's side, her soft hand on his shoulder as she sang him story after story in her light, mellifluous voice. Feelings of safety and awe all at once.

He hardly has to think about how the song goes, he's heard it so many times. An ancient tune, a love song for the land. His favorite version is in his homeland's oldest language, one that his mouth, throat, and voice fit so easily around despite not having spoken it as of late, as there's no one here to speak it to. Singing, though, singing can be to and for everyone, no matter what shape the words take.

"So that's what you're always humming," Raihan says, long after the last note was absorbed by the forest. "On rainy days. Never heard the full thing before."

"That was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," Leon whispers, the reverence in his tone pulling heat to his face. "What language was that?"

"Àitesambith's oldest. Me mum loved singin' in it. That song was her favorite, sang it all the time, 'fore she died. She had the most beau'iful voice..." He rubs a raindrop from Leon's cheek, gives him a knowing smile. "I'm sure your mum sounded just as lovely when she sang to you."

They're both hugged closer.

"Humans are so musical. You sing all the time for any reason or no reason at all. Have I told you how much I love it? Because I love it."

"Wouldn't be here if you didn't," he teases. "I'd still be in that prison. If I knew back then, that all I had to do to catch a dragon was sing me heart out, I'd have been doin' it from day one."

Raihan chuckles and hugs them even tighter. Leon's face is so near his now that he can barely see anything else. "I do wish I found you sooner. Wish I found you both sooner. My two most precious things."

Leon blushes something fierce, which is quite the pretty sight up close. "I don't think I can compare to Piers. He's much more—"

"Hush, you." Piers' stern look is short-lived. He lowers his hand from Leon's lips to his shoulder. "Don't doubt a dragon's sense of worth. ...And don't doubt mine either, when I say you're precious to me too." He hooks his other arm around Raihan's neck and gives them both a soft smile. "My sweet boys, who know what's better for me than I do. You two make me so happy."

A happy rumble resonates all around them. "Piers..."

Raihan cuddles them fiercely. He drags Leon up into his lap as well and doesn't let either of them fall out of it as they're subjected to an onslaught of nuzzling, and, in Piers' case, nibbles and kisses. He giggles as warm lips rub across his cheek and sharp teeth find his ear. Dragons use their mouths to show a lot of affection, given that in their usual bodies, their front feet are on the ground, and Piers is glad Raihan never dropped the habit even in this form.

It's hard to stifle his laugh at the shock on Leon's face when Raihan decides to give him his turn.

"R-Raihan!" Leon's squirming doesn't deter the dragon one bit. Raihan's determined to show him the same, and targets Leon's neck.

"Better hold still, mate."

The unicorn picks her head up at the high-pitched squeak that follows Raihan's application of a sharp nip.

Piers whistles. "That's a higher note than even I can hit. Good on ya."

Leon claps his hand over the side of his neck, face aflame. "What even was that!"

"What do you think it was?" Raihan gives him an unperturbed look. "Come on, let me see. You were wiggling around so much I might have accidentally left a mark."

Leon begrudgingly lowers his hand, and there is indeed a little pinprick of red where Raihan's fang broke skin. Raihan clicks his tongue and leans in again, and tightens his hold around them both when Leon tries to lean back.

"Relax, I'm making it better."

"It's nothing, you don't have to—hey!" A single lick, and it's done. That single lick was more than Leon could take, however. All the fight's gone out of him, poor thing is stunned still.

Piers ruffles his hair in sympathy. "Dragon spit's got a coagulant in it, helps with bleedin'. Not that you were bleedin' much at all, that was overkill. Rai, he's not a baby."

"Yeah, you're right. I just wanted to do it," Raihan says, shit-eating grin more handsome than it has a right to be. "If you're jealous, I can give you a little love-bite too, c'mere, baby."

"You are not startin' shite here." He pushes at Raihan's chest to lean away from puckered lips. "Kiss me after you're not on babysittin' duty. Shame on you, there's children watchin'."

"...Oh, fuck, you're right." Raihan sighs and his arms slacken at last. "You two get up, I'll get baby back to her mother. Need to check out a few other things too."

Leon gets to his feet first and holds a hand out, and just like that night they lay under the stars together, doesn't let go after helping him up. There's something more special about holding hands where Raihan can see.

"You two will be alright by yourselves, right?" Raihan beckons the unicorn to follow him.

"Course we will." Piers shoos the dragon off. "You do your duties, I'll get us started home."

* * *

Leon's heart is singing just as sweet as Piers was. They're together again, in the best way. Talking again, walking side by side again, touching and hugging and smiling again.

The light rain has increased to a drizzle, reduced by the dense trees and filtered into heavier drops that make him blink every time one hits his face.

He'd be hopelessly lost if he was alone here. Terrible sense of direction aside, this whole place buzzes with magic. It's not uncomfortable the same way it is when it's actively being used—it's actually kind of pleasant, like a gauzy blanket instead of a lancing headache—but still enough of a sensation to be distracting.

"Sorry if Raihan's affections were overwhelmin' back there. I sort of invited it upon us, sayin' what I did."

He remembers the exact words just fine. Piers called them both his...

A blush crawls up his face before he can finish the thought.

_Sweet boys._

"It's fine," he says, and he means it. "It took me off guard that he'd do to me what he did to you, that's all."

Piers squeezes his hand and leads them alongside a slope. It's rather sharp, with sparser trees, the downhill side gaping for things to fill it. "It shouldn't. He cares about you too."

...In the same way, though?

Raihan did say back there, during the argument, that all three of them care about each other. That he loves Piers, and that he... can't name how he feels about Leon yet. _Yet._ What does that even mean?

He'll just have to take Piers' word for it.

"I'll try not to be taken off guard again."

The moss and rotting leaves underfoot are getting slipperier due to the rain.

"Good. 'Cause I can tell you now, you've got more comin'."

More of that? Leon rubs the side of his neck. He's definitely not ready. It's astounding that he sat through all that without anything... compromising, happening. He counts himself lucky.

"Ah, careful!" He stiffens his arm when Piers' foot slips. This rain is making this particular path treacherous. Piers chose it, though, so it must be the best way home...

"I've got great balance, don't worry about me. I've walked this way countless times. You just need to know where to put your feet."

Piers' playfulness was sorely missed.

"Well, as a champion, I've got pretty good footwork too. I've fought on all kinds of terrain. This is noth—"

The leaves beneath his heel slide too far downhill to recover from, and Leon slips. He drops Piers' hand only to have his wrist grabbed, and there's no time to tell Piers to _let go or else_ because they're both tumbling down the slope.

He grabs for Piers and draws him close to protect him as the world spins around them in a blaze of green, black, and brown. It's a painless tumble, for the most part, but he's worried about hitting a tree, or goddess forbid, a rock.

They crash through at least two bushes before the slope evens out enough that their velocity slows, and it takes a comically long time to come to a complete stop on the slick leaves, among even more bushes. His head is spinning and arm stings, but that can wait, he needs to make sure Piers is okay first.

He gently loosens his protective hold and supports himself on his arms. Piers is caged beneath him, eyes screwed shut and breathing pretty heavily from the rush of the fall and roll.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just dizzy..." Piers groans and rubs his head, and his eyes blink open, and oh, they're... pretty close.

His own dizziness fades when Piers' eyes focus on him. It's been a while since he was able to see them this close. He forgot how pretty they are, such a clear sea green, almost blue in the shaded dark... He'd gladly get lost in them.

"Sorry for slipping," he says, not really thinking about words right now.

"Sorry for tryin' to save ya. Should have known I'd be helpless against your superior inertia."

He should probably get up. Why isn't he getting up yet? 

"You, uh... you are really light."

Smart observation, Leon. So smart.

"Aye, but you're also wonderfully strong, for me to feel so light to you." The compliment rolls smoothly off Piers' tongue and hooks right into his chest, tugs him closer. Soft hands slide up his stiff arms. "Though your footwork still needs improvement."

Piers' hair is spread out all around him, like a halo. So pretty... He's never really seen Piers like this before, lying beneath him.

_Kiss him._

The thought sneaks up on him, startling enough that he almost pushes himself up. But he doesn't. He lets himself consider the idea. It... wouldn't be bad, right? To kiss him? Now that they're together again, they can...

Piers' hands drift to his face. His throat goes dry when bony fingers comb through his hanging bangs.

"Someone needs a haircut..."

Leon barely hears it, because those hands are holding his face, thumbs brushing across his cheekbones, and those eyes, those _eyes..._ looking at him like he's loved.

_Lean down and kiss him. You can do it. He wouldn't push you away._

He licks his lips and gathers his courage. He can do this. If Piers can give kisses with such ease, so can he. What's so hard about leaning in, getting close, and...

"Piers! Leon! Where are you?" The call reaches them from afar and knocks all those thoughts out of his head.

What was he doing? Going for a kiss on the lips like that. Those kinds of kisses are supposed to be special. Something lovers share, not... not people who are just friends.

...Isn't this something more than 'just' friendship, though? He wouldn't know, he's never had close friends like Raihan and Piers. Never had any lovers, either. Where is the line drawn? Does intimacy make the difference?

The memory of Raihan's mouth on his neck and Piers' lips on his cheek, of arms curled around his waist and hands palming his chest, of weight in his lap and kisses on his forehead come rushing back all at once. The inside of his chest is an anvil to his heart. He's dizzy all over again.

There's something...

There's something important, just out of reach of his understanding, he can feel it. Feel it just as much as the warm rain on his back and the soft ground pressed under his hands, and the cold touch still on his face.

He gasps when he realizes he's been forcing Piers to lay on the damp earth this whole time. He shoves himself standing and dusts his hands free of dirt and plant matter. Before he can offer a hand, Piers has already sorted himself out, and rises like an unfurling fern. His hair is a tangled mess after their fall, but the disheveled look oddly suits him. Leon winces at the tangles and dirt regardless. Brushing that out will take ages.

"W-We're down here! We're okay!" He calls up the slope.

"Oi, not you, you're hurt..." Piers takes his arm and inspects it, and Leon becomes aware again of the sting. It's only a tiny cut on his forearm, barely anything. It's not even freely bleeding. Piers looks concerned regardless, brows knit like he can glare the problem away if he stares hard enough.

Leon's heart skips at the show of care for such a small injury. He hasn't been fussed over like this since he was a child. After that, it was always _pick yourself up, brush it off, don't let such a small thing distract you, there's worse pains in the world._ Here Piers is, treating him so gently for something that would never register as worth a glance.

"There you are!" Raihan's voice is shot through with relief. He leaps from tree to tree down the sharp slope, finally landing with a thud right beside them. "I heard the fall and came right over. ...I smell blood, where is it? Who's bleeding?"

"Leon is." His arm is passed to Raihan and suddenly, both of them are crowded into his space. It's not claustrophobic at all. It feels like they belong here.

Raihan looks over the cut with a frown, and Leon compulsively downplays the injury to stop him from worrying.

"It's nothing, really..."

"Don't say that." Piers is staring right at him. Warm, caring, utterly serious yet utterly soft. "You bein' hurt is never nothin'."

He's helpless against that. When Piers looks at him like that, every word out of his mouth carries the same weight as a universal truth, and Leon has no choice but to accept it as such.

"I'll fix it. I don't care if it's overkill, I'm still doing it." In the corner of his eye, Raihan bends down and lifts his arm. When a hot mouth closes over the cut, Leon stiffens and shivers. It's Piers who looks away first, shifting his deep gaze to Raihan, and something about that displacement taps on Leon's attention. The way Piers is looking at his partner...

"Do take your time, love." Piers pets Raihan's lowered head, and takes Leon's other hand at the same time.

Oh... That's what it is. Piers turned from him to Raihan, and the look in his eyes didn't change at all. No increase, no diminishment, just the same level of warmth and care. The same feelings, directed at them both.

A sharper suck on his arm makes him flinch, more from surprise than pain.

"Done. You okay, Lee?" Raihan looks up at him, rubbing his hand, and oh, _oh,_ there it is too. It's in Raihan's eyes too. The man who held him while Piers was distant, who eased the pain of loneliness. Looking at him just like that.

Leon swallows, glancing between them, reading them with new literacy and understanding.

They care about him so much. And he cares about them, too. Of course he does. He wants to return every ounce of this overwhelming blend of new feelings they've been pouring into him. They're so precious to him that _not_ giving back would be painful. He wants to make them feel the same way they make _him_ feel. How they've _been_ making him feel.

Rattled from the surge of affection wanting to crash over the pair before him, Leon shakily nods. "Y-Yeah... I'm more than okay. Thanks, you two."

He tightens his grip around Piers' hand, and pushes into Raihan's to hold as well. Sky blue eyes widen and slit pupils dilate, and the delighted smile that lights up Raihan's face will be seared into his memory forever.

"How about I escort you both out of here? Everything else can wait."

"Won't say no to the extra company. What do you think, Leon?"

What does he think?

About them, about himself, about what they do to him? About how they make him feel?

"I'd like that," he says, breathless as a realization grips his heart and lifts him up and up to a terrifying height. He's never been here before, never had anyone take him to a place like this.

He thinks...

"Great! This way!"

He thinks that...

"Oi, slow down with those long legs of yours! Raihan!"

He thinks that he might be in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 31-OCT-2020: Ao3 user Cosmic_Inkblot drew [Piers sitting beneath that tree](https://twitter.com/CInkblot/status/1322638601541324801) near the start of the chapter! Thanks so much for the lovely art, it made my day!


	8. Romantic Fantasy Slumber Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (wow has it really been a month since i updated this? feels like barely any time at all)
> 
> Since last chapter, I've been absurdly spoiled by people drawing fanart for this AU! I'm linking them both here as well as in any chapters they may have been specified for. I may sound composed typing this but I'm losing my shit just as much now as I was when I first saw them because KWQJEFK;SDJKLZJNV,MCNCVJNBVBX?????? ?? ???? I LOEV ALL OF HFJLFDSGJDHSHSHHSHSS
> 
> [[Piers and Raihan being so tenderly in love]](https://twitter.com/hotpantsdance/status/1278763427939270656) by [hotpantsdance!](https://twitter.com/hotpantsdance)  
> [[Raihan's "JUST KISS ALREADY" animation]](https://twitter.com/VaudevilleRobot/status/1280662559876579329) by [Lulzy!](https://twitter.com/VaudevilleRobot)  
> [[Piers looking absolutely adorable]](https://twitter.com/raihieon/status/1280694014946271232) by [Andi!](https://twitter.com/raihieon)  
> [[Leon and Piers' shoujo-romantic first meeting]](https://twitter.com/DEADxEYEZ/status/1280750917445283840) by [DEADxEYEZ!](https://twitter.com/DEADxEYEZ)  
> [[Piers and Leon under the moonlight]](https://twitter.com/MarsMinimal/status/1288224864319549440) by [Mars!](https://twitter.com/MarsMinimal)
> 
> Please check out all these artists, they're all so skilled and I'm forever grateful and weak that they took the time to breathe artistic life to this AU
> 
> Now, on to the story! I think after last chapter's heaviness the boys deserve a nice day in, wouldn't you say?

Rain blankets the land in mist.

The drizzle and gloom of yesterday deepened into a dark and steady rainfall, one that won't let up for days, if Raihan's read of the nonexistent wind was accurate. And it always is. Benefits of being a storm-blessed creature.

The roof of the tower interrupts the fall of raindrops and their protests blur together into a pleasant, drumming thrum over their heads. Raihan sits in the lone large window, one leg out, one wing out, straddling and leaning back against the broad stone without the netting of his own magic in the way. Piers asked him to take the little weather-barrier down, like he always does on dismal days, for he so very much loves the rain. Raihan's fond of it too; he loves the rhythm of it on his body, the sound it makes hitting his wings and scales, the satisfying weight the air gains when plumped up with humidity.

Normally Piers is the one in the window on days like this. He loves to sit and watch the sky, but no, not today. Currently, he's sitting on the bed and focused on a different task. Not alone as he does it.

Thank the boundless sky, Piers isn't alone. He's opened up again, lets Raihan close again. He missed his partner so much. Last night they slept together for the first time in what might as well have been months. He held his treasure close and didn't let go until the drizzly morning came, and Piers told him to ease up so he could head down, greet Leon, and they could make breakfast together like the cute domestic pair they are. Adorable to watch.

Given the weather, Raihan elected to stay here, inside the tower. Days of rain are days of rest and replenishment, not just for the land, but for its caretaker, too. Perfect timing to allow them all to catch up on some much-needed quality time. Leon's smile when told they'd all be together today more than made up for the lack of light in the sky.

Raihan extends his wing into the open. The choppy flow of water sluicing down from the edge of the conical roof batters against his skin, cool and refreshing, the sound like miniature thunder against his wing.

He can finally. Finally relax knowing his humans are together again. Whole again. And while he'd love to smother them with affection and demonstrate just how glad he is that they've made up, today should be more about them. Piers and Leon's relationship took the most damage and deserves the most care and attention to heal.

So he's sitting back, letting them have their time, content to act as watchful guard as they chat and sit close and trade fond looks.

Everything would be perfect, if not for one little thing.

He pulls his wing in, glances over his shoulder, and lingers. It takes all his effort to tear his eyes away from the scene on the bed. On any other occasion, seeing his beloved together with Leon on their bed would be a sight to drink his fill of with how much it pleased him, but right now...

His tail scrapes against the stone floor and he directs his gaze back out the window. A sharp flick of his wing flings the water off.

They're preening without him and it is unbearable.

Piers sits on the middle of the bed, Leon before him, brush in one hand and lavender locks in the other. He gave Leon a haircut earlier today that Raihan wasn't allowed to see up close, because he, according to Piers, was "hoverin' so bad I can hardly tell your breathin' from my own. Step back and let me work!" He just wanted to see what Piers was doing with the scissors! But he granted his partner space, as he wanted, and the sound of each snip grated his ears. Cutting all that pretty hair... It was a relief, once they were finished, to see that all Piers did was trim it back. Raihan can't really complain when the loss made Leon's pretty eyes more visible. Trade-offs, trade-offs.

And here they are now, Piers giving a continuation of the grooming, with brush and hands instead of anything that cuts. They're chatting pleasantly, and yeah, he's happy they're bonding, but...

Dammit. He wishes he was there with them, brushing Leon's hair out, or Piers', or _both,_ and making it as soft and pretty as possible. Or to have both of them tend to him instead, now that would be euphoric. But he told himself, they need time together after being emotionally apart for so long, to bond again. They need to preen each other more than Raihan needs to be involved...

He curls his tail closer. The worst part is he can't figure out who he's more jealous of. Piers, for getting to brush and tend to Leon's recently-trimmed mane, or Leon, for being able to sit there and be the subject of Piers' gentle, expert attentiveness.

"I can feel your broodin' from here, you know." Piers calls out without pausing his ministrations. "If you've got somethin' to say, out with it."

He scoffs and stares harder over the rain-muffled meadow. The distant forest is hardly visible through the mist, even to his sharp eyes. "What? Nah, it's nothing."

The sound of brushing stops. "I thought I was supposed to be the evasive one. Spit it out, love."

He takes a petty moment to heat the air in his lungs and hiss it through his teeth. The open air grabs his breath and curls it into steam, and easily absorbs it into the rest of the damp. Piers is right, he shouldn't hide. It would set a bad example after everything they've gone through.

"You got me, I'm jealous," he breezily says. "Glad you two are bonding, but..." He mumbles something incoherent to his own ears, more for the effect than to actually communicate something.

Leon speaks next. "Jealous...? Oh! Raihan, come sit with us! I thought you wanted to keep watch, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, who's to say you can't join in?" Piers reinforces. "Get over here love, sit behind me and do as you please. This day's about us and that includes you."

Raihan is on the bed in a flash, fingers buried in Piers' lengthy tresses and reveling in the silky softness before anything else. He lifts a section up to his face and rubs his cheek against it with a relieved hum. Smells so good. So soft. A bit fluffier thanks to the humidity. He admires his partner's diligence in keeping it well maintained, and now he gets to play with it. He's not taking this chance for granted. Ohh he missed this.

The sound of brushing resumes. "If I didn' know better I'd say you loved my hair more'n the rest o' me."

"Nonsense!" He drags the word as he drags his hand through to the feathery ends. "I'd be a fool to ignore something so fine, that's all. Wish you'd let me touch it more."

Piers snorts and flicks a lock of hair over his shoulder that Raihan eagerly adds to his handful. "If I did, you'd do nothin' else."

"Not true. I'd at least take breaks to cuddle."

Ahead of Piers, Leon chuckles, no comment offered. He's sitting straight and still as Piers works, and it's obvious that if there were no interruptions, he might start dozing off from the effects of all the brushing and light tugging.

These two are so cozy with each other. Beautiful to see. A relief to know. They fell back into mutual comfort near instantly, like the tension and struggle of before was only slight turbulence in the greater windstream of their relationship.

The brush is set aside. Raihan watches over his treasure's head as deft fingers work a magic of their own. Purple hair is divided, sections twined around pale hands as Piers begins a complex braid with no pause or hesitation. He makes it look so easy. All Raihan can do for now are simple plaits, but someday he wants to master the fancy stuff. It doesn't look much more complex than weaving actual magic.

He idly analyzes the structure and construction of the forming braid, committing the pattern to memory as best he can.

"You're doing a good job on that," he comments, and takes the brush for himself. "So pretty."

"Leon doesn' need much help bein' pretty."

"Neither do you." He kisses the top of his lover's head, and smiles when Leon quietly agrees.

Raihan spins the brush in hand. He's got a future mate to groom. Might as well organize all this into a plait of Piers' own. But first, the brushing. Start from the bottom and work his way up.

They lapse into a comfortable nest of silence, lined with soft rain and the brush of even softer hair. ...It's pleasant and all, but now that Raihan's part of the fun, he feels like doing more than quietly tend to his mate's pretty locks. He's in a social mood and the only thing better than grooming by itself is all the gossip that comes with it.

He's got the perfect starter.

"Lee?"

"Hm...?"

Leon sways slightly while Piers works, broad shoulders pulling a nice tautness in the fabric of his shirt.

"Give me your opinion on something..." He winds a length of soft ivory around his wrist just to draw his arm back and feel it slide against his scales. "Which sounds better, crack-of-dawn birdsong, or Piers' singing?"

Piers gives no reaction to the topic other than the slightest hitch to his shoulders.

"Piers, of course," Leon answers dreamily. "I still have his songs stuck in my head."

Make that a moderate hitch to his shoulders.

Satisfied with the path that's been set, Raihan intakes a breath deep enough to tip his mate off to what's coming, and launches into a theatrical soliloquy of his own devising.

"And why wouldn't you! In all my travels, I've never heard a bird who could rival my love. His voice is so sweet clear and pure it makes mountain streams sour with envy!" Raihan lifts the brush high and presses a hand over his heart. "When my darling dearest sits on the window and sings to the sky, the clouds part, the sun shines, the very wind itself twists his way to carry his voice to the heavens as a gift for whatever human gods reside in the sk—"

"Shut yer shite-spoutin' soft-toothed gob and put it to better use breakin' bones 'atween yer teeth, ye overgrown lizard-faced gander-ache," Piers spits, ears flaming red. Leon jolts out of his daze. Piers twists and hurls him a glare that could light a bonfire—that is, if his blush didn't get the job done first.

He counters with a winning smile. "But baaaaby, I'm telling the truth! Leon can back me up, can't you buddy?"

His second target turns, and _my oh my,_ if that expression of bewildered delight isn't the most handsome look on him. Like he's not sure if it's okay to find Piers' explosion of expression funny while already halfway there.

"Don't bring him into embarrassin' me," Piers intones. "Ye got the sense of a twice-skelped erse. Embarrass me enough and I won't feel like usin' me pipes again anytime soon 'less it's to curse yer sweet self down t' the river 'n back again, ya rank bloated dobber, you."

"...Babe, I love you, but if you want me to feel insulted you'll have to say things that sound like real words."

"They are real words," Piers huffs. "You've got your own tongue I can't understand a lick of, lemme have this. Leon, turn back round, I ain't done."

With a short grumble about losing his spot, Piers busies himself with winding his fingers back into Leon's mane and resuming his delicate work.

Ice successfully broken.

Raihan resumes his brushing. He's more than happy to chatter away now that the precedent's been set for conversation.

"Sure, but dragonspeak isn't nearly as lighthearted with its insults. Any time we want to curse someone, it's serious business. Not fun at all!" There's no way he'd ever direct any true dragon curses towards either of them; these two are the furthest thing from enemies, and Eternatus's name is not one to call upon carelessly. "We certainly wouldn't curse in response to full-truth compliments. Such as saying our beloved has a pretty voice."

He runs a hand down Piers' waist and gently squeezes.

"Amazin' how you can be so sweet and so cheeky at the same time." A click of a tongue has him smirking. He's won.

"It's a talent." He massages the slender waist in his grip. "If you want full sweet with no cheek, you'll have to go to Lee. I don't think he's got a cheeky bone in his body. Isn't that right, baby?" He gives Leon an unseen wink.

Piers shifts in his hold. "I sup—"

"Ah, sorry, I meant Leon."

He senses the eyebrow raise as the dots connect in Piers' head. Knows what his face is doing even though it's not visible, because Piers has a true talent for exuding skepticism even while his back is turned. Raihan gathers all the hair away from his neck and holds it aside to nose at his skin while Leon fumbles under the focus on him.

"Me? Oh, I... guess if you two think I'm that sweet, then..."

There's a lack of Leon-scent on Piers' pale skin thanks to their touchless dry spell. That should get fixed soon. Raihan's gotten pretty fond of how their scents accent each other, how they mingle and blend into something more comforting than either are on their own.

"Yeah. 'S true, that, ya are very sweet." Piers shakes his head and resumes braiding. "I'd call you cheekless too if your arse weren't so nice."

Raihan smothers a snicker and refrains from comment. Leon's ears, now visible from behind, are well on their way to glowing soon.

Piers carries on as if he simply commented on the weather. "On the topic o' nicknames, I think 'sweetheart' fits you better'n anyone I've met in me life. _Leannan,_ perhaps... 's what that means." The foreign nickname does more to redden Leon's ears than being called baby or having his ass complimented. Piers hums and quickens his hands' work. "I didn't know that Rai already moved in on callin' you things."

And there's the accusation. Not Raihan's fault that Piers wasn't there to notice the new development. Good to catch up now rather than later.

"It's recent," Leon shares, rubbing his shoulder. "I kind of like the move away from being called knight all the time. It'll take some getting used to, but I like it."

Warmth wraps around his core and he winds his arms around his partner. "I like it too, baby. I'll try to make it clear which of you I mean when I say it."

Or he could leave it vague and watch them both turn their heads when he calls it out. That would be delightful.

"I hardly noticed you stopped callin' him knight as much. Must've missed out on quite a bit if you two are tradin' endearments like that..."

He rubs cheeks with Piers, not so much an apology as an acknowledgement that missing out must not have been pleasant, and presses a kiss near his ear before sitting up straighter.

"Don't worry about it. You're here now and all caught up, that's what matters." Time to get this braid started. "Besides, it's not like Leon and I got that much closer than you two already are. I've been so busy with the season that it was more like catching up than anything else. What's a little nickname change?"

The black and white braid is down to Piers' mid-back when he answers.

"Yeah... s'ppose you're right. I'm glad you two had each other while I was bein' blind."

Leon fixes his bangs. "I had Raihan, but I still missed you. I'm happy you're back, Piers." So genuine it softens his expression even when he's not the one being addressed. "I'd rather have you both than just one of you, if that's not weird to say..."

"Not at all..." Piers murmurs.

And that's the end of that.

To give his partner time to ruminate on whatever's on his mind now, Raihan focuses on weaving the triple-sectioned hair, thoughts drifting with every switch and pull of the trio. Wind two around each other, pass the outer one to the center and trade places with the third to put _it_ in the middle, repeat, repeat, repeat, without letting the ends get reverse-woven due to negligence of keeping them apart. Pretty amazing how the simple act of braiding strands together makes them so much stronger than they are as their separated whole. A rope versus the strings that make it. Magic works the same way; if you don't weave it properly, the result is much weaker than if you took those same strands and put the time, skill, and care into structuring it. Same amount of magic, less effective results.

He glances around Piers' head. His progress is beautiful, a multi-layered style of more strands than someone should be able to manage with only two hands. Smaller, more intricate braids act as accents woven within the greater picture. And yet, those fluffy sprouts of hair around Leon's ears refused to be incorporated. Not even Piers could make them fall in line. Still, it looks gorgeous. Something truly fitting of Leon's beauty.

He is by far the prettiest knight Raihan's ever seen. One of the prettiest humans he's ever seen, period.

It only feels right to call him cuter things now, like sunbeam, Lee, baby. Knight was accurate back when that's all he knew Leon as, but now? Hell no. He'll have to add 'sweetheart' to the verbal roster too, because Piers is right, if there's anyone who deserves that title, it's the man sitting before them both.

Strange how it wasn't that long ago that Leon invaded the territory with death on his mind. Blade sharp, armor glinting, eyes that of a war-hardened killer. Nothing Raihan feared, "champion" or not, but the difference between his current Leon and the Leon he first met is staggering.

He never wants to see that old Leon again. This one is much better. Smiling, laughing, not only making Piers happy but bringing new warmth and strength to Raihan's life as well. Leon's someone who understands the mindset of a guardian and protector, with fangs and claws of his own. When they spar and clash, Raihan can see glimpses—or maybe reflections is more accurate—of the ferocity he's truly capable of. And after the fight, once he's managed to make Raihan admit defeat, he offers a hand, helps him up, and they dust each other off and laugh about the spar, both high on the special camaraderie born from sport.

Raihan would be lying to himself if he said that's all their relationship is. It was the basis, the foundation, but the way things built up from there...

He thinks back to the day that feels like forever ago, when he carried a crying friend somewhere safe and shaded and held him, shielded him, until the chill of his ghosts finally faded. He'd wanted to mouth at Leon's ear and give him kisses, give him more intimate care and attention to show just how much he's willing to keep Leon safe and tend to his emotions. Because Leon is one of his treasures. Cherished, beloved. Worth protecting, just like Piers. Both so precious, delicate in their own unique ways just as they're strong in their unique ways, trusting him to be careful—or to push—exactly where it matters.

Being a dragon, such trust would be enough to satisfy him, but that isn't the end of it; they take care of him too.

In the dark of the forest, after all self-made chasms were bridged and mended, they gave him exactly what he needed after so many days of stress and worry that his humans were drifting apart. He got to hold his treasures close, have them lean on him and be able to wrap himself around them and feel like they were _with him_ once again. He couldn't resist smothering them a little. He did hold back by only giving Leon a tiny bite on the neck instead of the full treatment he so badly wanted to give.

(The pinprick nip already healed over. The scrape on Leon's arm from the tumble they both took is still there, healing strong. The taste of Leon's blood on his tongue is a fresh memory, one that won't fade any time soon.)

What a lucky dragon he is to have such priceless treasures place themselves in his hands, one in each. He's besotted with Piers, adores him so thoroughly he thought his heart could never be tugged towards another, but here he is. Two beloveds under his wings, and he'd slaughter whole nations for them both.

He understands what Piers said before, about having room in his heart for another without losing one bit of the existing love he feels towards his current, only partner. Feels silly in hindsight that he was insecure for a brief spell, worried that Piers might want to choose between them with all his talk about potentially belonging to Leon too. Piers can be Leon's all he wants. There's no danger of losing Piers to anyone any more than there's danger of Raihan being lost to Leon, too.

And Leon certainly won't lose either of them. Does their sunbeam realize just how much they're devoted to him already?

Raihan leaves a good length of Piers' hair unbraided and combs it with his claws back into a unified handful, so he can loop and slip it into a simple self-holding knot. It won't come undone on its own, but the hair is silky enough that it'll only need a little tugging in the right spot to come loose. All done.

He admires his work for only a moment before itching for something new to do. A dip into nostalgia might be nice, to air out all those introspective thoughts stuffing his head full.

"Yo, Leon. Remember how you used to want to kill me?"

Leon sputters something that sounds like an apology, and Raihan only laughs.

"You used to have such a scary look in your eyes! And look at you now, sunflower." He reaches around his treasure and goes for the grope, planting both hands on Leon's chest with a light smack and taking care not to prick with his claws too much as he hefts the muscle upwards and croons. "You're one big softie now."

So very, very soft.

"R-Raihan!"

Piers twists around to shoot him a scandalized look. "What are you doin' to him?"

Oh, right. Piers never had the thought to try this, huh? He's missing out.

"Don't worry, we've done it before." He chuckles and presses the tips of his claws in, just enough to entice a cute tiny sound out. "You should try it, he's got plenty to go around."

Bounce, bounce.

"When did you..." Piers drops the question with a shake of his head. "Nevermind. I s'ppose you're right." His tone lightens and Raihan's ears perk. "Leon's got a bountiful enough bosom to put the proudest whore's diddy rides to shame."

A proudest whore's what now? He can infer or ask, but Piers has got so many slang terms and language quirks that trying to track every one of them is a chore. He'd be better off learning the entire language from scratch if he's going to memorize so many words anyways.

"A... what?" Leon fields the question anyways. "I've never heard of that before." He's squirming a little, not that Raihan minds one bit. Makes it more fun to squeeze. Too bad this shirt's in the way.

Raihan scoots closer to Piers' back and tries to pull Leon closer as well, but his treasure clicks his tongue in annoyance at the loss of space to finish up braiding. Fine, they can all cuddle up once Leon's hair is done. It'll be safer to hold them like that, anyways. Piers' hair is a nightmare on its own when it's not tied back; adding Leon's mane to the mix? There's no way they'd come out of a cuddle without a few accidental pulls and plucks and hasty apologies.

In the meantime, he'll enjoy what's in his hands, and listen to Piers' explanation.

"What, a diddy ride? You know, it's when a lady—or anyone with enough chest, really—uses their tits to rub all over your cock. Nice and soft, or so I've heard."

Now that gets his interest. Raihan pushes the generous pectorals together and gauges the resulting cleavage in his mind. Hoh.

"I- I see... I'm not familiar with, ah... techniques. Never been inside a brothel or anything. The workers would always wave at me whenever I passed one, though. Up from the balconies."

Finally done with his handiwork, Piers ties off the end of the lavender masterpiece with a slip of ribbon he kept around his finger. Piers' favorite, he recognizes. Black silk. The cute little bow is perfectly symmetrical. "Tryin' to entice the champion to let off some steam, eh? Let me guess, you had to return many a handkerchief?"

"How'd you know? They kept dropping them, I couldn't let them stay on the ground and get dirty!"

Piers actually laughs. Sweet music. "You are a darlin'. Those poor lasses, thinkin' they might've gotten lucky," he chuckles.

Raihan's hands slow and push Leon into leaning back via insistent pressure on his plush chest. He doesn't tip just yet. Just a little more... 

"You familiar with whorehouse culture, baby?"

That's an interesting thought. Piers stepping into one of those dens, lads and ladies fawning over him and amping up the charm to net themselves some time with the prince. As if any of them could come close to Piers' level of charisma.

With enough pressure, he finally encourages Leon to lean back against Piers' front. The skinny thing is pressed against Raihan's chest as he's sandwiched between the two larger men, which Raihan knows Piers doesn't mind, going by how he takes so long to answer. Raihan settles his arms around them both, happy to get a partial cuddle going. It's no pile, but it's a start.

"To a degree. I've made friends with quite a few prostitutes. Didn't sleep with any, though. Loved sneakin' outta the castle to cavort about with 'em. They tell the best stories and give great advice about all sorts o' things."

"Little rebel. I love it." He nuzzles the top of his beloved's head and nudges the back of his hand on the underside of Leon's chest. "You're both little rebels, actually. Maybe I have a type."

"Hah." Piers shifts to get more comfortable between them. "So do I, now that I think about it. Guess I've got a thing for big muscular blokes."

Leon tries to sit up. He doesn't get very far with two hard arms barring him from it. "Hey, stay," Raihan says.

"But I'm heavy..."

"I don't mind it. I'm used to Rai layin' on me, I love the feelin'. Sit back, _leannan,_ I've got you."

Unable to resist a sweet order like that, Leon gingerly leans back. This time, Piers wraps his arms around his middle and hugs, and Leon tenses for only a second before going totally boneless with a light sigh. That's much better.

Raihan's wings unfold forward and partially close them off from the rest of the room. It's just them and their own little world within a world. There's no place safer than in a dragon's grasp. Outside of his arms is their home around them, and outside of that, the whole territory. Nothing can touch them here. Beautiful treasures. All his, and no one else's but each other's.

...Oh. Hold up. He really should ask Leon before he starts claiming the man as _his._

Yes, Leon came into the fold knowing he'd be under Raihan's protection, but things have changed since that very first agreement. Leon isn't "the knight" anymore, he's Lee, Piers' friend and second dear one, a glowing, irreplaceable vibrance in both their lives.

Raihan wants him in more ways than he originally had. He doesn't feel like pinning exact words onto the feeling; he just knows he wants Leon and is content to let things develop as they will, and enjoy whatever they build, same as he's always done up to this point. Unlike Piers, who spent a lot of worry and fussing over whether or not he could have what he wanted, Raihan doesn't fly that way. All he has to do is ask and see what Leon thinks about it, and they can go from there. No need to have everything figured out before making a move.

He's confident Leon would say yes if he popped the question now. Same way he's confident that Piers will come around soon and accept the bond he has to give.

But... hm. Leon first deserves some time to appreciate lying on Piers (whose hands are staying around Leon's middle and not venturing higher than that, what a shame). And after their recent turmoil, Raihan isn't about to risk anything that might interrupt their good time. Yeah, might be good to take a page from Piers' book and wait for a good moment. He can have some fun leading up to it, too, turn the waiting into part of the process. Warm Leon up to the idea, tease him, prepare him... maybe even court him a little, and _then_ drop the question.

Raihan runs potential words through his head.

_Do you trust me with your everything? Will you accept the full extent of what I can provide? I want you; would you like to be mine?_

A pleased rumble fills the enclosed space, and Raihan tightens his arms. Leon, being his. All his—and Piers', too, of course. There's no doubt that Leon would want to be Piers' too. They'll treat him much better than anyone has before. Certainly better than that filthy snake of an adoptive father.

It's deeply satisfying to think about taking Leon from his king. The reason behind all his suffering. All his pain. So long as Raihan has power within his body, Leon will never suffer like that again. He'll take far better care of this man than that careless 'father' ever did. He wishes he could see the look on the royal asshole's face when he realizes his prince is never coming home.

Come to think of it, wasn't there some kind of deadline to Leon's dragon-slaying quest? He vaguely remembers him mentioning that a while back. He wonders if it's passed, or if there's still a theoretical window in which Leon could fly back to Rhondeland, either empty-handed or hauling a dragon's sword-severed head and be welcomed with open, false-loving arms. Praise the might of the champion.

"Rai..."

He relaxes his arms with an apology. Piers might be fond of tight hugs and heavy cuddles, but there's only so much active squeezing he can take. He kisses the top of his head as a bonus apology, and allows his hands to wander. One drifts up to rub a muscular shoulder. The other slides down to cover Piers' hands on Leon's stomach. With them in his arms it's easy to keep a clear head.

Both his, and they have him too.

* * *

It's always been easy for Piers to admit things to himself when he feels sheltered and secure.

At his back is Raihan, a solid wall able to sit straight even with the combined weight of two people leaning against his chest. His leathery wings carve a close, personal space even within the safety of this room, and his arms are a yielding enclosure around him. At his front... Leon. Warm and heavy, broad back acting a perfect cover, head resting against Piers' shoulder and newly-trimmed hair tickling his face. It'd be so easy to tilt his head and nuzzle his cheek against Leon's head. And if Leon were to turn and look up at him, easy to press a kiss to his forehead.

Piers would love nothing more, but he's content to sit and hold, and be held by, the two people who have his heart.

He can say the truth to himself now. It finally feels safe enough to do so. He loves Leon. Loves his kindness, his enthusiasm, his gentleness, his drive. The way he takes the everyday mundane so seriously and with such delight at the same time. His honesty is a strength, which is insane, because for Piers' entire life he saw unrelenting honesty as nothing but a weakness and a danger, but Leon makes honesty feel safe. And he's beautiful, gorgeous... Piers could take his quill and drain the world of all its ink writing about the ways Leon is beautiful. How his hair catches the sunlight. The roughness to his knuckles and the gentleness of his grip. The rich laughter that, if Piers ever had to go deaf, would be the best thing to hear last, the memory of the boisterous sound enough to act as the hearth he'd need to warm his silent days.

Yes, he'd definitely run out of ink before he ran out of things to say about Leon. It'd be a surprise if his hand had the strength left to write at all if Piers started his scripture with Raihan instead. His first love, true love, proved through blood and fire love. The only one he thought he ever _could_ love before Leon came along and showed him he had room for one more.

Piers tilts his head back against his dragon's chest and waits for the kiss to his forehead he knows will surely come. He doesn't wait long. Warm lips press against his hairline and draw a soft smile out of him. Raihan squeezes his hand and tries to nudge it higher up Leon's front. Piers stops allowing it once his thumb is a bawhair away from nudging the underside of a large chest. That's enough of that. Raihan can be as heavy handed as he wants in touching Leon; Piers would rather keep his touch on the lighter side and he won't be dragged into the groping.

The warm weight pinning him against his lover's chest swells as Leon takes a deep breath and sighs it out. Piers' arms tighten around the muscular middle, and the large hand atop his gives him a squeeze.

"What's on your mind?" Nothing stressful, he hopes. He wants Leon to be just as comfortable as he and Raihan are in this moment.

"I'm just thinking about what Raihan said... about how I used to want to..." A minute shake of the head rubs Piers' shoulder. "I'm glad I don't have to be a champion anymore. It's nice to leave all... _that,_ behind."

There's a lot of weight in such a vague word. History and pain. Piers licks his lips and squeezes again. "Tell us more?"

"Are you sure you want to hear? Some of the things I've done are..."

"I've told you before, I don't fear you nor your sword. Or anything you might've done with it in the past. You did what you had to do." He tugs his hand out from under Raihan's and freely strokes across Leon's front. "Tell us about it. Share with us."

That simple encouragement is all it takes. Leon adjusts his position and Piers hums in approval, takes the opportunity to uncross his legs from behind a hard lower back, spreads and extends them, so Leon can relax more flush against him with nothing in the way. Raihan's more than happy to hug them both, and a warm chin rests lightly on top of his head as they settle anew, waiting for Leon's gentle voice to carry over the sound of rain.

"It was... The things I learned, were..." Leon seems to struggle for words, but before long they come rolling. "It was all I knew. All I was supposed to be. It was my whole world, but I felt so... suffocated inside of it. I was a prince, and got to live with all the wealth and comfort that came with it, and I know I shouldn't speak ungratefully for everything I was given and all the time invested in me, but it... it... sucked!"

Such a tame word to use, but it holds the sting, scrape, and weeping scab of a wound kept open for years and years. Piers holds him tighter, whispers to keep going, tell them more. The wings around them draw closer and block more of the already-dim light.

"Every part of my day was scheduled for me, and there was so little I was allowed to do on my own. Servants dressed me in the morning, meals were always prepared without me being able to choose, and all the meetings and lessons and training sessions I had to attend took up all of my time. The only free time I really had was to walk from place to place. I wasn't allowed to do anything unbecoming of a prince. No speaking out of turn, or walking too quickly, or laughing where other people might hear, which meant nowhere at all. The only times I felt like I had any control over my life was when I was fighting."

The image of Leon decked in armor and wielding his sword against a deadly monster, both battered and bleeding, plays through his head.

Piers shifts between the two powerful bodies holding him in place. This is more Raihan's domain than his, but he can understand exactly where Leon is coming from. The idea of wedging yourself into a crack of your prison and making that particular corner yours. Finding freedom within the confines by any means necessary.

"I hated killing. Wielding my sword just because Rose needed it swung. But when I have it in my hands, and the only thing I need to focus on is winning, it's like..." Leon lifts a hand in front of his face, and stares at every hard-earned callus. "Like my fate is my own, and no one else's. What happens next is all up to me. I could live, or die, or anything, really... The world feels like it's mine when I'm fighting to stay in it."

Raihan rumbles in understanding. "That life or death thrill has a knack for making nothing else matter."

"Yeah... I never picked fights of my own will, but battle was the only thing that kept me sane. It was the only freedom I had."

Piers' hands are tense against Leon's stomach. He relaxes them and hopes it wasn't noticed by anyone other than him. Leon's got a direction with his words, is headed somewhere important, and Piers is itching to hear the conclusion. Wants to hear plain and clear from Leon's own lips that everything is different now.

"I don't need all that to feel free anymore," the ex-champion says, and Piers is able to relax once more. "It's not just fighting that makes me feel like myself. I've..." Leon holds. Doesn't continue. The suspense will kill him if kept up. "...I can't think of a non-cheesy way to phrase this," he groans.

They're both jostled. "C'mon, Lee, hit us with the cheesy! We won't make fun of you or anything."

Piers adds his encouragement silently, by slipping his hand down to Leon's thigh and squeezing. Dense muscle, formed from a lifetime's training to be a champion.

"I've found more ways to be me, thanks to you two," Leon delicately says. "I know that my only life away from home has been with you, so it's kind of a given that you two would have an effect on me, but..." He sighs in exasperation. "I just—it's still really special, that you've done all this for me. I try not to talk about it all the time, but it's really on my mind a lot, how you two have... saved me. A-And lately, I've... Especially since we made up, I've..."

Piers winces at the fresh reminder of the fight. Of what he put Leon through thanks to his own stubbornness and unwillingness to listen. He's never going to put the man through that again—could never bring himself to be so cruel to someone he cares about so deeply.

Leon swallows, face a shade of flustered.

"I've realized something since then." A bared edge of nervousness piques Piers' attention. What could Leon be so shaken about...? "That I might... maybe..." Leon groans and slumps his head against Piers' shoulder. "Sorry. I'm still figuring a couple things out."

...Pardon?

"What sorts of things?"

"Oh, just... uhm. Emotional things? I don't know if I can easily describe it yet. I mean, I do have the words, I just... need to see how true they are first. If that makes sense."

Raihan cheerily flexes his wings around them. "You know we'll listen whenever you're ready, baby. I know words about feelings can be hard. Whatever they might be," he teases.

The chuckle that breezes out of Leon straddles the thin line dividing nervous from thrilled. "Yeah..."

The conclusion that Piers wants to draw is too good to be true. There's no way that...

No, it would make sense, wouldn't it? Leon's fairly easy to read, and Piers knew from the start that the other prince had at least a physical attraction to him, followed by friendship and fondness and affection and followed again by deep care, and devotion, and...

Piers' mind flickers back to when they fell down the hill. Leon protected him through the tumble, hovered over and looked down at him with large eyes and parted lips, and came so close to kissing him that Piers wanted to curse Raihan's name into the ground for shouting and ruining the moment. They were so bloody close to kissing.

And why would Leon lean in to kiss him, beautifully dazed and vulnerable, if he didn't feel something special? If he didn't want something more than just a kiss?

Something audaciously hopeful sprouts in Piers' chest, and he tightens his arms around Leon's middle. "Hey," he says, and waits until Leon's turned his head and is peering up at him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Leon's breathing stumbles and his eyes flutter shut. Piers' hand slides out from under his lover's, up to Leon's plush chest for the very first time; not to grope, just to press, right over the left side of it.

He stills his other senses and concentrates on the rhythm of the heart beneath his palm.

Thundering like the hooves of a stallion fleeing death.

Evidence.

Evidence that at the very least, his feelings aren't one-sided. They might be reciprocated. He has a chance, a real chance. The next time they're alone together, perhaps they can... have a chat about it? Or maybe Piers should just corner him and kiss him silly, or maybe he should see if Leon comes to him first. The man did say he was still figuring 'a couple things' out. The last thing Piers wants to do is push when Leon isn't ready.

He can sense Raihan's interest behind him; he'll tell his partner what's on his mind later. Nothing but full honesty and openness from here on out.

"Anyways!" Leon cracks the mood in a higher-pitched tone. "There's other things I'm glad I left behind. Like the stiff parties and balls, and all the formal clothes. Goddess, there was this huge red cape I always had to wear over my armor, and over my dress uniform, too. I left it behind 'on accident' and was so glad to be without it."

A cape. A bloody cape?

It's marvelously easy to envision. Piers allows his thoughts to turn away from dizzying topics like love and emotional reciprocity, but their effects still linger on him, lightening his heart, encouraging him to play.

"Now that's somethin' I'd love to see."

Always in sync with him, Raihan joins him in pushing at Leon's shoulders. "Alright, _knight,_ there's no way you can tell us about a cape without showing us what that looks like."

Leon stumbles off the bed in time to be presented with a large, light blanket. It's a dark green and clashes horribly with his hair, but it'll serve its purpose.

"Oh—you can't be serious!" Leon gapes and takes a step back. "No more capes!"

A whisper of worry reins him in. Maybe they shouldn't, since it's something Leon did leave behind. Wearing it might remind him too much of home and the things he had to do at home and the person who made him do it—

"Fine," Leon sighs, and takes the blanket with a... smile? He's smiling? "Why not. I'll let you see how ridiculous I looked."

Raihan sits right on the edge of the bed and snags around Piers' waist. He's dragged right onto the dragon's lap and is pulled flush against a hard chest.

"Don't overthink it," Raihan murmurs into his ear as Leon flings the blanket over his shoulders. "It's fine."

"But..." But Leon could be lying again, about what he's comfortable with, just because he doesn't want to disappoint them...

"Let him say what's right for himself. Trust him to tell the truth from now on." Raihan hugs around his waist with a firmness that expels the shadows scratching at his mind.

"There... I look dumb, don't I? At least this doesn't have fur trim on it."

Leon stands at full height, chest out, shoulders back, one hand on his hip and opening the curtain of the makeshift cape. The giant knot at his shoulder does ruin the image somewhat, but contrary to Leon's insistences, he looks... good. The long fabric draped behind him lends a solid, dark-colored backdrop to his muscular silhouette and accentuates just how broad his shoulders are.

The slackened arms around his waist tell him Raihan's having similar thoughts. Piers slides off his lover's lap and draws himself up into practiced, princely posture.

"Not dumb at all," he appreciatively says. "You look regally handsome in that."

The only change the praise brings is a darkening to Leon's visage. Not completely buying it, but perhaps just a little more will send him over...

"You look a real hero, not that you weren't already. Oi, Sir Knight, think you can defend me from this evil, accursed beast?" He sweeps an arm towards the dragon on the bed, who snaps out of his silent, eyes-only undressing of the becaped champion.

Always quick to play along, Raihan turns a heated gaze his way and growls deep enough to shudder the stone walls and rock Piers to his core. The goosebumps running up his arms and back of his neck are pleasant. Come to think of it, it's been quite a while since they've had any tussles in the sheets...

A flash of fang tempts him to stroll right back to his dragon, but he roots himself where he stands. "I so do need t'be saved from a ravishing..."

"If it's the last thing I do, fair sir!" Leon, not affected nearly the same way by the growl, sweeps the makeshift cape over his shoulder and presses a hand to his chest in pledge. "I'll protect you from the terror of the mighty beast!"

Raihan snorts and shatters his own illusion along with the spell over Piers. The two humans carry on, gazes locked, lips edging on smiles and only kept in check by the pretense of seriousness. As serious as this sort of acting can be, that is.

Leon's eyes sparkle with fun, and gone are the rest of Piers' worries.

"I'm saved," he suspires, clasping his hands beneath his chin. "Saved from the horror of bein' cuddled half to death every night! From bein' forced to to scratch the monster's sweet spots whenever the fancy strikes him! Thank you, Sir Leon, thank you!"

"I'm only doing my duty, fair sir. Nothing shall lay a hand on you unless you will it!"

Raihan's doubled over laughing. His tail is slashing over the bed, wings stirring the air in the room. "That—That chivalry impress you, damsel?"

"How could it not?" Piers whisks himself forward and fakes a stumble against a broad chest. "How can I resist trembling before such an impressive knight? Nay, an impressive _man?_ " In his peripherals, large hands hover around his body, unsure of where to touch. Piers injects a little more want into his voice—not like he has to fake it or anything—and rubs up against that muscular torso. "My life's been achingly empty before this perfect display of masculinity and grace came along and filled it. Oh, Sir Leon, take me now!"

Leon's expression flips from playful to thrown and Raihan bites his laughter into a barely-contained, drawn-out wheeze. Piers bats his eyelashes and Leon goes as scarlet as his old cape probably was. Such a handsome look. Piers subtly draws a hand over Leon's heart and revels in the pounding of it as the man stutters his lines.

"I- I've never received such an offer, from someone as... tempting as yourself." Oh? "But rather than take you, perhaps you could... perhaps I could ask for you instead?"

...There's something deeper hidden behind those words that he doesn't dare ignore. It's thrilling, and every ounce of thought he can spare for analysis latches on to Leon's words to pick through them and wonder, if maybe it's true that Leon wants him just as much.

Piers' hands slide down Leon's warm chest as he draws back, but his hand is caught. Finally touching him back, eh?

The tease on Piers' lips evaporates when Leon takes a careful knee on the floor.

He hardly notices that his partner has gone silent, that the rain is all he can hear, because the sunrise fire in Leon's eyes has stolen every speck of his attention, and of his breath. "What's this?" he asks, with what's left of it.

Rhondeland and Àitesambith might be separated by vast waters and many lands in between their borders, but certain gestures are universal. A warrior taking a knee and the hand of the one they're bowing to...

"I may be a prince no longer, but as long as I have something to protect, I'll always be a knight." A calloused thumb rubs the back of his hand. The serious set to Leon's expression outweighs any lingering humor in the air.

"Leon..." His brain can't supply more than a name. Leon's sun-bright gaze is relentless, burning away everything that isn't them and the shared touch between them.

"I'm proud to devote myself to your well-being." Leon lifts his hand. Tilts his own head down. "For you, Piers..." The warmth of full lips grazes the back of his hand in a chaste, yet searing kiss. "I'd battle my way through blood and hellfire just to see you safe from harm."

A dull roar fills his ears. The back of his hand is burning as if branded. This... isn't silly roleplaying anymore, is it? His heart is trying to escape and Piers knows exactly where it wants to go. Who it wants to go to.

He could keep playing along, while simultaneously not playing along. It's what Piers is good at. Speaking two things within one word is easy. But what would he even say? Accept the knight's pledge along with everything hidden underneath it? He wants to, gods, does he want to—

"Damn..." Raihan's comment strikes the moment down with the same distant force of someone shooting a bird out of the sky. "You might just charm the monster too, with words like that."

Piers jerks his hand back to himself and checks over his shoulder. Raihan's staring at Leon with unfettered approval, blatant want, with a glint in his eye that Piers normally sees directed at him and him alone.

Leon, not seeming to notice the hunger aimed his way, coughs and jumps to his feet. "If I could win both prince and dragon, I'd call it a total victory!"

Both—?

A powerful arm thrusts into the air, hand cocked and fingers partially curled to strike what's obviously a well-practiced pose. Nothing for wild, desperate battles; Piers can see him doing that in the middle of an arena, surrounded by cheering crowds losing their minds over another glorious win from their champion.

Alright, thank the gods for the break in tension; his heart was about to bloody explode. He needs a break.

"You do that every time you kick Rai's arse at wrestlin'?"

The arm lowers. Leon looks a touch exhilarated, the reasons for which Piers can't spare the courage to ponder. "No, it never occurred to me."

He smirks and lays a hand over his chest, encouraging his heart to slow the fuck down already under the guise of conversational gesticulation.

"Well I'd love to see it. Anyone who can best Raihan in anything deserves every braggin' right they get." Raihan looks scalded. Piers innocently twirls his un-braided bangs around a finger. "And if it's you, loyal knight o' mine, you get to sweep me off my feet in the process."

As if this ray of noble sunshine hasn't already.

Leon moves in. Before he can do more than blink, a strong arm hooks behind his knees and he is literally swept off his feet into a secure hold. Piers instinctively plants a hand against the chest he's pressed on, and oh, bloody fucking hell. This is why Raihan likes rubbing it so much.

A low whistle bunches his shoulders. "Looking good there, you two."

He can't find the presence of mind needed to retort. Leon's jawline is _unfair_ from this angle. And when his loyal knight tilts his head down and their gazes meet, Piers weakens immensely.

"Did you mean like this?" Leon smiles, and it's over for him.

He wants to be kissed the way a fire needs air to keep burning.

"Y... Yeah," he manages. "Just like that."

Leon adjusts his arms. He's so strong, Piers always forgets just how powerful this man is. Piers isn't the heaviest person in the world—far from it—but still, being held and carried with such ease never fails to affect him. He feels protected, taken care of. Cared about. Raihan was the only one who could instill such feelings within him before Leon fell into their lives.

Why is the man so confident all of a sudden? It must be some kind of post-argument honeymoon phase that's driving Leon to act so...

_(Romantic?)_

...Forward.

He glances towards the bed, where Raihan is openly appreciating the sight. His clear blue gaze says everything—that he's happy to sit back and watch his partner be pampered, and happy to see him be thrown into a tizzy over it, which is no good at all. The dragon doesn't get to avoid this onslaught. Piers knows for a fact that Leon's fond of Raihan too, and vice versa.

Time to investigate how deeply it extends.

Plan set, Piers licks his un-kissed lips and lightens his voice. "Leon?"

"Hm? Sorry! I can let you down now."

"That's not it," he hastily says. Although, he will have to come down for this idea, which is a shame. "I was just wonderin'..." He circles a fingertip around Leon's broad chest. "If you were strong enough to pick up Raihan the same way?"

Raihan's posture jerks straighter. He's so obviously interested it makes Piers want to laugh. But he holds it in, and focuses on Leon's contemplation. The arms around him tense, like their owner is taking stock of what they might be capable of.

Leon nods. "I can do it. I'm not sure about his wings, though, it might not be comfortable for him."

"I can put them away," Raihan says, overly nonchalant. The way the tip of his tail twitches betrays his eagerness. "If you want to try, that is. No big deal or anything."

Piers could comment, but doesn't. It's adorable than Raihan's willing to shape change for this of all things. The dragon is oddly stingy about transforming despite being a gigantic show-off. Something about optimization and ideal forms and whatnot.

Ah, that's it, ain't it. The ideal form for being picked up means no big wings in the way.

"Away?" Leon sounds confused before understanding clears it away. "Oh, right, you can change your body. I always forget."

He's gracefully let down, and by the time he looks up, Raihan's silhouette has drastically diminished—though of course he's still huge even without his dramatic wingspan—with only a slight glimmer of magic lingering around his back. Raihan takes one step and freezes with his arms out. His tail straightens out behind him and extends across the entire bed to the wall for maximum counterbalancing.

"If you're gonna pick me up you better do it soon because my balance is _super_ fucked right now."

It's a silly sight. Piers' heart softens in abject fondness.

True to his warning, Raihan sways. Leon darts over and grabs the dragon's shoulder so he spins and falls back instead of forward, and quickly scoops the giant man into his arms with little more than a low grunt of effort. One dragon, swept off his feet like an innocent maiden.

Any comment resting on Piers tongue fizzles out and his throat goes as dry as if he swallowed the smoke.

Muscles corded like ship's ropes bulge beneath the tanned skin of Leon's forearms. His chest is bunched thanks to the effort of holding a dragon off the ground in the same bridal carry he held Piers in. One thick arm is wrapped around Raihan's back while the other is hooked beneath long long legs, and speaking of Rai...

He is flustered like Piers has never seen before. The delight on his dragon's face is written in a deeply colored blush, and his eyes are wide and dilated and sparkling like the sun glinting off the sea. He's staring up at Leon with active appreciation born from surprise; he wasn't expecting the human to succeed in picking him up. Piers doubts Raihan was ever cradled like this before, and oh does it ring something deep in him to see his dragon's reaction to receiving another's strength.

The whole picture is, to put it simply, one of the most desirable things Piers has ever seen.

"How's that?" Leon's voice is clear and smooth as a spring-melt stream. This casual display of strength is going to erode Piers' self-control faster the longer it goes on.

He wasn't lying earlier about having a thing for muscular blokes. Those fucking arms... That poor shirt will barely last as long as Piers' composure, strained as both are over that god-blessed chest. After this, maybe he will take a cue from Raihan and indulge in giving it a squeeze. Just one. If he can perform a single grope without biting his lip or salivating or falling to his knees and dragging Leon's trousers down on the spot, it'll be a win for him.

Hell, he's winning right now just by watching this. Those two look devourable right now, Leon with his powerful body shown off and Raihan by being so flustered and vulnerable. There's nothing he'd love more than to stride right over and kiss his dragon's blushing face, and give Leon one too, as a reward for bringing it out.

And then give Leon a second, just because he loves him.

"Fuck..." Raihan chuckles without his usual strength. "Maybe I should get swept off my feet more often. This isn't so bad."

"You mean I don't sweep you enough when we spar?" Leon jests. He's too fucking handsome when he's confident like this. Raihan has a better knack for enticing it out than Piers does.

A thin tail snakes around Leon's ankle. "I wouldn't mind losing so much if this is my consolation prize from now on. Being carried off by a handsome knight, just like all the lucky princes and princesses."

"I don't think I'd have the endurance to carry you for long. I might win our fights, but you still wear me out! And you are really heavy," Leon says, as if he isn't managing the weight just fine.

The comment sparks a flurry of banter. The two trade boasts and claims with as much fervor as they do the compliments they fling. Piers is happy to watch and listen. As individuals, they're both bursting with energy and drive, and whenever it's directed full-force towards Piers there's only so much he can take before he needs to retire and recover from drowning in them. But when his boys turn their attention on each other...

"I've told you, let me teach you some of my techniques and you'll get better so much faster!"

"And lose the advantage of an unpredictable moveset? No thanks. I want to kick your ass without your help."

"And I'm looking forward to the day that happens, but unless you're the most patient dragon in the world—"

"I'll beat you by next week, watch me!"

...When his boys turn their attention on each other, they can take as well as they give. Waterfalls of passion, both of them, thunderous and unrelenting, feeding into each other's sources so they can pour and pour without ever running dry. Piers is content to take a drink when he can handle it. He needs to feel no guilt over not being able to keep up with them, knowing they have each other to spur themselves on at the pace that keeps them happiest, while never leaving him behind.

He really does adore them both. Their interactions are so effortless it's almost worth envy. Leon and Raihan really have gotten closer in the time Piers held himself away.

He smiles to himself, a touch wistful, but mostly happy for them. Rai was right, it does feel like they've caught up.

At some point Leon sets Raihan down so they can add gestures to their verbal sparring, one arm around the dragon's back to help keep his balance. Their voices raise, faces inches apart and eyes sparking in challenge. Piers knows that look. They're two seconds from crashing down the tower and hurtling into the rain to have a match.

Which would be nice and all, but Piers is not in the mood to cuddle with two men covered in mud and soaked from the rain. And he _just_ did Leon's hair, gods dammit.

Thank the powers below Raihan doesn't have his wings right now. Otherwise he'd no doubt have already grabbed Leon and defenestrated them both in his haste to battle.

Piers sidles into their space and drops a hand onto each of their shoulders. It shuts them up instantly and their attention snaps to him, and a dark little part of him relishes in how much control they grant him over their momentum. These are two powerful warriors and they heed a meager reed like him.

"You two better calm right down, 'cause if you choose to run out and wrestle in that weather I ain't lettin' ya back up here and I certainly ain't gonna snuggle with either of ya tonight. Pick your path."

Raihan and Leon share a look, and it's Raihan who lapses into an easy smile and throws an arm around Leon's shoulders.

"We were just playing around! Isn't that right, Lee?"

"Yeah! We're staying, promise!"

They sound so much like partners in crime. Piers shakes his head with a fond chuckle and pushes them both towards the bed.

"I'm takin' your words for it. Since you've put your wings away, Rai, I wanna take advantage of it. Lay down on your back, let me—let us lay on you. If Leon's open to it, that is. You deserve a little spoiling after all you've done for us."

That's all the encouragement Raihan needs to dive onto the bed. He tumbles onto his back, legs partially spread, tail straight down between them, arms wide open to receive them both. The only thing holding Piers from following suit is Leon's pending answer. His wide eyes are aimed at the bed, then at Piers, then back again to Raihan.

Still hesitant, after all that messing about? Piers takes Leon's limp hand and tugs him towards the bed.

The excitement on Raihan's face as they approach pulls a reflexive smile out of him too. He only drops Leon's hand to crawl onto the bed and happily collapses within a waiting arm. It curls securely around him, snug and tight, and Piers draws himself as flush to his partner's side as he can. It's so rare that Raihan puts his wings up and he's gonna milk this position for all he can. He rubs his cheek into a muscular shoulder and smooths a hand across Raihan's hard stomach.

"Waitin' for somethin', Lee?"

Leon stands at the edge of the bed and stares. Sways in indecision. The cape hangs loose around his shoulders, knot halfway undone from all their larking. Why such hesitation? It's not like they haven't touched as a trio before. Hell, they were doing it while braiding earlier, and did it after they made up, too, in Raihan's lap. What makes this different?

Piers takes stock of his own position, draped over Raihan and using him as a pillow, petting him, pressing him, and it dawns on Piers that in all the times they've cuddled their friend, they were the ones doing the holding. Leon's always been the one receiving.

This is the first they've asked of him to take a lead on _giving._ To indulge himself in the pleasure of touching someone he's close to who's eager for that touch.

Heart twinging with the regret of not doing this sooner, Piers stretches his arm over Raihan's chest, palm up, fingers curled.

"Join us," he gently entreats.

_We want you. I want you._

"I..."

"Trust me, baby, there's nothing I want more right now than to have you both on top of me."

Leon gingerly fingers the knot at his shoulder. "If you're sure, then..."

"Of course we're sure!" Raihan pokes a claw at Leon's stomach. It jolts him into action, motions unsure as he edges onto the bed. Once within range, Raihan hooks his waist and drags him in. The blanket cape flutters behind him, and Leon's quick to undo the knot before he gets tangled. It slips over the edge, out of sight.

"Ahhh... There we go. That's what I wanted." The dragon exaggerates his satisfaction once Leon is pinned against his side. "I'm so glad you two have your hair done. I'd be too scared to be horizontal with you otherwise."

Piers and Leon stare at each other across the hard plane of Raihan's chest. Those thick eyelashes are the slightest tilt away from tickling Raihan's skin with every nervous blink. Piers gives him a smile and a reassuring brush of a palm along his cheek. _It's okay,_ he wants to convey. _You're allowed to be here._

Warm chatter fills the air above them. "The number of times I've snagged Piers' hair is dozens too many."

His hand drifts and grazes down Leon's arm, his wrist, until he's gathered a rough hand in his, and tugs it to rest atop Raihan's chest. Satisfied with the placement, Piers strokes over scarred knuckles.

"You've gotten better about it."

"I know I have. It's the only reason you let me touch and style your hair now."

Leon's hand uncurls beneath his touch, until both palm and fingers are flattened over dark skin and bright scales.

"And you did a very good job, love. Thank you." He passes the message to Leon as well, through a proud gaze and a smile.

Underneath them, Raihan's chest puffs with pride. He launches into a new topic—a tale of his past travels that Piers has heard thrice over, exaggerated each new time he's heard it with today no exception—and Piers focuses solely on the man across from him. He wants Leon to be comfortable where he is, and with what he's doing.

Lead by example.

With a light sigh and a roll of his body against Raihan's, Piers slides his leg up and hooks it over his partner's thigh. Smooths his hand down a rugged chest and stomach. Circles the pads of his fingers around scales and scars. Raihan's body is as familiar to him as his own, yet no less enjoyable to explore each time they touch. If they were alone, Piers would have silently asked for kisses by now, but he isn't about to make his dragon turn his head away from their third while he still looks so lost.

Funny how Leon was so bold in picking Raihan up, but now that he's been invited to snuggle and indulge he's gotten so timid.

Halfway into the story ("The storm was massive, one of my best—the atmospheric pressure over the bay was begging me to turn it into something legendary, and I can't say no when the weather wants my hand. We danced for hours, Leon, hours!"), Leon's fingers twitch where they rest. Where Piers put them last.

The scaly arm around Piers tenses, then tightens, when Leon tentatively strokes a single finger down dark skin. Then two. Then four. And now Leon is hiding his face against Raihan's shoulder, hand rubbing the world's smallest circuit against Raihan's chest. If his hair were down he might be able to fully hide how red his face is, but there's no escaping it, not that it's something to stress over. No one here's going to judge him for anything.

Raihan, bless him, doesn't slow down his story. His warm voice tints brighter around a smile, and he draws them closer to his sides. The more colorful he spins his wild yarn, the more Leon relaxes and allows his hand to wander. It ventures lower, bravely rubbing over Raihan's bare stomach before retreating back to the scale-dappled safety of his chest.

Eventually, it reaches a point where Raihan hardly cares about the story anymore, and trails off with a half-arsed conclusion, far more interested in relaxing with two hands, one practiced and one carefully curious, stroking and squeezing him. A scaly hand drifts and rests atop Leon's head, while the one on Piers' waist subtly travels to palm his rear.

A glance upward reveals how saturated with satisfaction Raihan is about the current moment. This must be bliss for him. To be spoiled with affection by his treasures, one on each side. It's no less than what he deserves. Love swells in Piers' chest and he cuddles impossibly closer.

He's never been allowed to forget that Raihan wants more from him than just this, relationship-wise, but right now, his dragon truly looks content with two people's worth of attention. Two people to take care of and protect. Two people who adore him.

Piers' tongue draws along the closed seam of his lips, and he lets his thoughts stray down a path that's always been dark and thorny.

He thinks about what it would feel like to say yes to Raihan's proposal of mateship. His chest tightens and pushes his breathing short for only a breath. The idea of a one-sided mate-bond is still repellent. Unwanted. He wouldn't be happy if he said yes, none of that's changed.

What has changed is that... he doesn't feel guilty over disliking it anymore. It's surprisingly easy to think clear, straightforward thoughts about his dilemma.

Leon's words from that starry, silver-bathed night float back to him, warm and understanding through the filter of memory and altered feelings.

_Just tell Raihan no._

Even if Raihan can't have him as a mate, they still love each other. Will always love each other. And with Leon here, adding to what they have and giving Raihan someone else to lavish and love, who knows? The dragon might not even feel the sting of a bond denied.

He tests the idea again, this time in his own voice.

Just tell Raihan no.

He thinks... after all this, he might have the strength to do so. 

Piers arches his back to encourage the hand on his arse and receives a pinch for his troubles. He chuckles and seeks out Leon's hand, laces their fingers together, and drags their joint touch up to press against their dragon's chest. He listens to the steady beat of rain against the roof over their heads, a sound almost as comforting as the beat of a large heart inside a body capable of far more than just shelter.

His heart's never felt so full and so free at the same time. This is where he belongs. He never should have kept himself away, and now that he's back with them, this is where he'll stay.

* * *

Leon never knew cuddling could be so stressful.

It's one thing to have someone hold him, and take control over where they feel like touching him, but this? He has no clue what he's supposed to do. Where he's supposed to touch and how to do it. All he can do is follow Piers' lead on what Raihan might like, and right now, that lead isn't much.

He's just... laying here, against a hearth-warm body, using a shoulder as a pillow with a large hand resting on top of his head. The dragon's heartbeat is strong and steady against the back of his hand. Piers' cold fingers are laced within his, and the guide of his touch, the explicit permission to _touch here, feel here,_ is welcome. It's easier to accept direction than touch of his own volition, and if that direction is telling him to hold still and bask in the moment, he'll do it to the best of his ability.

Unfortunately for him, the stillness doesn't make this less overwhelming. There's so much _Raihan_ around him. His heat, his solidity, his scent... stormy, as if he just came in from the rain. The beat of his heart subdivides the slow rhythm of his breaths, chest raising and falling beneath his and Piers' hands. The dragon reaches into so many senses just by existing. Basking in his relaxed presence is like trying to bask in the eye of a hurricane.

Leon's still processing that they're all here right now. Together. Relaxed, or in his case, trying to relax.

They wouldn't be here if they never made up. They'd still be split apart, Piers trying to be scarce as possible, Raihan doing his best to keep Leon's mind off of the forced distance... Compared to that, this is bliss. It should be bliss.

He needs to relax already; there's nothing about this moment worth stressing over. All that's going on is cuddling with the two people he...

Leon's hand tightens within and around Piers' and inadvertently presses harder against Raihan's chest.

He's cuddling with the people he thinks he loves.

No, he _knows_ he's in love—with Piers, at least, for certain. The thought haunted him all the way home, all through the night as he tried and failed to sleep without the way they looked at his barely-injured self on his mind. It clung to him all day. It whispered in his ear with each snip of the scissors around his head and pleaded with every purposeful brush through his hair. It's what drove him to kneel, capture Piers' hand, and speak his honest devotion. What compelled him to sweep the slip of a man off his feet in a spontaneous, playful attempt at showing off that he thinks might have worked. The thought of love is also what brought him into this bed to cuddle and partake in petting the beautiful man between them.

Raihan...

He's not quite sure yet, how he feels about Raihan. With Piers, it's easy. There's a pull, a reel, an insistent tug that urges him closer and closer and he doesn't know what will happen once they collide. With Raihan, it's... harder to explain. He thinks it's still some kind of love, but it feels so different than what he feels for Piers. It can still be love even if it feels different towards another person, right?

The frustration of not having the right words to frame his feelings right away presses at the back of his mind. He needs practice with addressing his own emotions. This is the first time in his life he's been compelled to lend his feelings the attention and weight they might deserve, without either Piers or Raihan reminding him first, that it's okay to prioritize his own feelings.

He thinks back to how Raihan felt in his arms. The dragon is heavy for sure, but not unmanageable, and the way Raihan looked up at him once he realized he wasn't about to be dropped... like he was served the world's best gift on a golden platter. If Leon knew it was that easy, all along, to make Raihan happy like that—the breathless way, not just the grinning way—he'd have done it much sooner.

Leon turns his head out of hiding against Raihan's warm shoulder. Piers is gazing right at him. Not intense or probing. Merely gazing at him. Like it's satisfying just to have his eyes on Leon. Leon understands the feeling; if he could, he'd happily sit and look at either of them all day, whether they're apart, or together.

His fingers twitch around Piers'. They're squeezed back, and he's given a tiny smile that warms him from the inside just as much as Raihan's body warms him from the outside.

 _Join us,_ Piers said, almost begging, if Leon read him right. From Raihan, _there's nothing I want more right now_ tipped the scales, tipped _him_ towards the scale-gilded body waiting for him.

Leon exhales against a warm shoulder and experimentally pulls his hand free of Piers'. He smooths his palm across a muscular chest and brushes a bird-bone wrist along the way.

Peaceful sighs from them both. They really do want him. Not just in their bed, but specifically by their sides. He can think that, right? Without hearing the words from their mouths?

He retreats from his thoughts and takes stock of the present moment. The hand on his head is heavy and easily covers the entire top of his skull. If Raihan wanted, he could probably crush bone and brain with a single clench and kill him before he knew what happened. Leon's never felt safer.

He draws his calloused fingers along the hard line of Raihan's collarbone until he comes to the dip at the center, where the largest tendons of Raihan's neck connect to bone. The scales on the dragon's throat are no doubt impenetrable. They make a hard, dull sound when Leon taps a nail on one, then experimentally scratches. He almost retracts his touch when Raihan moves, but it's only to tip his head further back into the pillow. More throat exposed... For a predator, that means a lot, and Leon isn't blind to a signal like this.

Raihan really trusts him.

He strokes down the length of the dragon's neck, fingers catching over the ridges between the scales. He shapeshifted his wings away, could he take these scales away, too? How human could he look if he wanted? How monstrous? According to Raihan's stories, he's been in both sea and sky, across cliffs and valleys and mountains and deserts. Leon can imagine all kinds of shapes and sizes, but one thing remains consistent as he pictures Raihan's body magically twisting into new, magnificent forms. His wings might grow, his limbs may fracture into new angles, his teeth might grow long as sabers, but Leon can't imagine anything changing about those sky-blue eyes of his. Raihan's eyes are the closest thing to fair weather they have, fragments of blue amidst all the overcast grey and rain. They're currently closed in contentment.

Not closed are Piers'; they're still watching him from beneath heavy lids and above curved lips. Approval radiates from every subtlety in Piers' expression, and it pushes his hand to boldly stroke down the column of Raihan's neck and rub the knot of cartilage protecting his voice box.

A low rumble blooms from within Raihan's chest. It's different from all the other sounds Leon's heard from him before. This one is... deeper. More rumbly; his fingertips are already going numb. And it keeps on going and going even when Raihan's chest lifts in an inhale, almost like a...

_Oh Goddess, he's purring..._

Leon's heart flutters. He did this. Or contributed to it, at least. It feels... good, knowing that he could help make Raihan this relaxed. It feels nice physically, too, the deep vibrations reaching through his body and loosening even the most obscure of his tense muscles, like a massage, almost, but everywhere, both outside and in.

His mouth opens to comment, but a flicker of motion stops him. Piers has a finger pressed to his lips. His eyes are smiling and glowing with pride. Leon closes his mouth before his heart can escape through it, and settles back down. His hand is the only thing to keep wandering, emboldened by Raihan's audible, physical enjoyment. His strokes are more sure, more firm, and the dragon's rumbling only gets louder when Piers joins in once more, overriding the rain as the loudest steady sound in their quiet stone room.

Any words Leon wanted to say dissolve away, blurred into nothing by the thrumming both above and around him. No words need to be said.

The voice of an old instructor, one of the few people Leon could say he misses from Rhondeland, chides in the back of his mind.

_You're a sharp lad. One of the best I've ever taught the way of the sword, and I've had hundreds of pupils in my long lifetime. I can see it within you, that if there's anything in this world that you want, you will be able to get it. Your heart is strong, Leon. If you share it with the right people, the world will open to you in ways you never imagined. Now, dust yourself off and run along. Don't want to be late for your king, hm?_

Raihan's shoulder is firm under his grip, a substitute for the steel grasp the old man's wrinkled hands inflicted as he hauled a young, spar-weary Leon up from the ground.

Why did that memory come now, of all times?

Sharing his heart with the right people...

Leon glances upward. Raihan's eyes are slivers of sky, observing him as benevolently as the stars watch the world below, lips a lopsided crescent. The scales speckled at the edges of his eyes shine even in the muted light.

Leon never thought he could get so close to a dragon. Not just physically, but emotionally. Not once in his life would he have ever predicted that a dragon would feel more like brother and friend than any other person he's come across. Being with Raihan is easy, effortless. He doesn't have to think about it at all. If liking Piers is like being subject to gravity, liking Raihan is like... already being on the ground. There's no inexplicable draw, no tugging to his heart's compass, because he's already where he needs to be, right by Raihan's side.

That's love too, isn't it?

Driven by a whim he can't explain, Leon reaches up and strokes a finger down a hard, bony horn. It's the first time he's touched them, and they feel exactly how he assumed they would. Raihan's eyes fall closed and his head tilts into the touch. He likes being touched here? Leon draws his hand to the base where horn meets skull and experimentally scratches the bone.

Raihan snarls and surges, upending them both like a ship pitching on the sea. They tumble off the deck of his body with varying levels of protest, Leon with an awkward "Whuh?" and Piers with a gravelly curse. His front is cold and no doubt Piers' is colder.

"Someone bargin' in on us, or what?" Piers gruffly says.

Raihan shakes his head and twists to kneel between them. "No, none of that." There's a hungry look in his eyes... "Scoot in."

Piers doesn't seem ruffled by the command specifically, only at being disturbed out of the cuddle, and with a beleaguered sigh scoots closer until he's halfway into the warm spot left behind by Raihan's body. Leon's slow to follow suit, unsure of what Raihan wants exactly.

"Closer." Lidded eyes flash with appreciation once their arms are pressed together. The contact burns, and Leon wonders if Piers can feel the goosebumps between them. "There we go..."

Leon doesn't have the time to question where this is going, because a hot, heavy weight is pressing him against the mattress and a low growl of—satisfaction? Insistence? He can't translate dragon very well—presses into him while a hard arm shoves beneath his back. A dark horn nearly butts against his face as Raihan settles low on top of them, face pressed into the nonexistent space between his and Piers' shoulders. The action is capped off with a deep sigh that heats his arm, and Raihan's body settles like a house into its foundations.

"Aw..." Piers strokes down Raihan's wingless back, and when did he wrap an arm around Raihan's waist? It was automatic. "You sweet thing. Big lovin' beastie of ours."

Something deep tolls through him like the ring of struck iron, the simple word of possession the clapper of the bell of his bones and soul.

_Ours._

A raspy groan resonates against his whole body, harmonizing with the unheard song coursing through him. Piers continues, a smirk playing on his lips from Raihan's reaction. If only he knew what his words did to Leon.

"Ye like havin' us in bed with ya? Mm?" A pale hand wraps around one of the horns so close to their faces and tilts the dragon's head back. Slit pupils are blown wide enough to approach circularity, irises reduced to bright rims of blue around black. "Go on and show us how happy ya are, _mo gràdh._ I know ye can't lie still for long."

"Fuck, gladly..." Raihan groans under his breath, hot and heavy against the side of Leon's neck, and then breath is replaced by an open mouth and Leon freezes, remembering the advice he received when sharp teeth first targeted him like this.

_Better hold still, mate._

In an echo of the aftermath of their making-up, Raihan mouths at his neck. Unlike that time, no fangs break through the thin skin. It's almost... gentle? The smooth glide of the flat of fangs along his jugular puts an end to his desire to squirm; instinct keeps him from moving a muscle while a predator's mouth is a casual bite away from cutting into something vital.

This is just the dragon way of showing affection, right? Fondness? Care? Friendship, or... something else?

Does it even matter?

His throat bobs in a swallow. The threat of teeth leaves and lips take their place over his pulse, warm and smooth and so so soft. Raihan breathes deep against his neck and lets it out as a rumble that Leon is pretty sure means he's happy. Happy to hold him, happy that he's here...

His hand glides up Raihan's smooth back and the rumble lightens into more of a trill. It's a gentle sound that carries all his tension away. A smile breaks over his face once the minutiae of the moment fade to the background and the big picture presents itself. Raihan's happy to touch him and Leon's happy to receive—and to give. He's excited to give! Touching Raihan, touching Piers, holding them like they've held him. He wants the work of his hands to relax them the same way theirs does him.

The next time Raihan parts his lips and nibbles on him, Leon giggles from the tickle and rubs the back of the dragon's neck, holding his head closer in the best hug he can give in this position.

"I like you too, Rai," he says, and the ease with which it leaves his lips only broadens the smile on his face. 

"Encouragin' him, eh?" Piers sounds amused.

"What do you—"

Any mirth he feels is cut short when Raihan makes a low sound in his chest and the heat on his neck becomes wetter, hotter, _sharper._ Leon's breathing stutters as a tongue prods at his captured skin. It's a new sensation, he's never had someone latch onto him like this, much less somewhere as sensitive as he's discovering his neck to be, and—oh Goddess that suction—

"Rai," he breathes, hips canting into the bed outside of his control. "T-That's..."

The wet sound made from mouth releasing skin crawls into his ear and scrapes his nerves alight. Leon loosens his grip on Raihan's neck; he didn't realize he was clutching the man against him.

"Sorry." The whispered word, laced with a growl, blows across the wet patch and he shivers. "I'll warn you next time."

Heat creeps up his spine with a shiver on its heels, ending with a tremor around his throat that shakes a whimper loose. Next time. Stated as fact. The casual surety Raihan exhibits is impossible to resist. If he says something will happen, it'll happen.

While Leon mentally fumbles over how to respond to that, the weight over him shifts and he's free to breathe without the weight of half a dragon on him. The room opens up to him once more. The circle-slanted ceiling crossed with rafters, the stone walls, the gaping window and the drumming of steady rain surrounding them.

Leon rubs the side of his neck and his fingers come away with wetness. He blushes furiously and rubs the evidence away until his skin is dry, the lingering tingle the only reminder that that just happened.

"C'mere, babe..." Raihan croons and drapes himself over Piers. "Your turn."

"Don't keep me waitin'," Piers smirks. His thin arms reach up and wrap around his lover's neck and they fall into each other like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Just like with Leon, Piers' neck is the first target. Playful growls are traded with chuckles as Raihan nuzzles and nips and kisses his way up to Piers' lips. They're in their own little world, one they built together from countless experiences shared, words spoken, feelings matched. It's a privilege that Leon gets to see it. He can question his own feelings all day long, scratch his head and wring his hands over what is or isn't love, but this right here is the real thing in front of him. Undeniable, a shining example. Enduring and strong.

"I love you," Raihan says, nose-to-nose with the man beneath him.

Leon's expecting the response to come immediately, effortlessly, but Piers does something else first. Glances right at him.

All of a sudden, Leon's made part of their moment. The barrier separating _them_ from _him_ shatters without fanfare, and the idea that he's still on either of their minds while they're so wrapped up in each other floors him like a well-struck battering ram. The enormity of it is packed into a flicker of a moment, because Piers' gaze turns back to Raihan as if the detour never occurred.

"I love you too."

The words are hardly out of Piers' mouth before a kiss smothers the chances of any more being spoken.

Leon knows he should probably stop watching, but he can't take his eyes off. The passion displayed within arm's reach, hand's reach, is arresting. Raihan kisses like he'll never have another chance to savor his partner again, and as much as Piers tends to act like he has the upper hand in most situations, he's quick to submit to this.

Something thin and rasping undulates against his leg. Raihan's tail... The sharp spines down the back of it don't graze him at all as it slides down his shin and rubs his bare ankle. Raihan hasn't slowed his thorough kissing, so either his tail is moving on its own or he's a master of multitasking. Leon isn't sure which option he likes more in terms of its implications.

Piers' brow furrows. Pale hands grasp broad shoulders and Piers' head tips back under new force. Raihan's head is tilted further to the side, sharp jaw opened wider and throat flexing as he... oh. _Oh._

Leon's always been aware that Raihan had a long tongue, but he's hardly had any opportunities to see what the dragon might do with it.

A tiny muffled whimper is loud as a shout in Leon's ears and rings just as much. Piers shifts in place, squirming below the waist and unable to do much beneath the large body pressing him to the bed.

A quick double tap on Raihan's shoulder is all that's needed for the dragon to disengage. The kiss breaks before it finishes; Leon can see the wet muscle still within Piers' mouth between their separated lips, and he stares as it slowly withdraws. The smaller man shudders as it leaves him, and Leon's own throat goes dry when he realizes just how much of Raihan Piers had in his.

What would that feel like...? To have someone reach into places only a dragon can?

The ends finally leave Piers' mouth with a wet sound, followed by heavy panting out of a recently-ravished mouth. A thin string of wetness hangs from one of the tips of a forked tongue and Piers' reddened lower lip. It swiftly breaks when Piers licks his lips and sucks in a deep breath.

"Tha's... enough for you..." he pants.

"Enough for you, you mean." Raihan smacks his lips and gives his partner a tiny lick on the cheek. Piers scrunches his face. "You always get so worked up from making out. Adorable."

"Can you blame me, when your tongue's like that?" Piers drawls, massaging over Raihan's shoulders where he clutched at them so tightly. "Ain't gonna let you wind me up when we won't be able to follow through."

Piers glances at him a second time and Leon realizes that he is, indeed, still right here next to them. Still staring at them.

He swallows around an uncooperative tongue. "You don't have to, uhm..." Don't have to what? _Don't have to mind me? Don't have to stop?_ "It's okay if you..."

A smirk curls along Raihan's lips. "What happened to needing a warning first, sunshine?"

Piers rolls his eyes and tweaks a pointed ear. "Raihan, we're not gonna do shite in front of him."

"Why not? If he's fine with it then—"

"Do not."

"Tsk, fine..." Raihan pouts at the warning tone only for a second before bouncing back and flashing a fresh smile his way, forked tongue slipping between his grinning teeth. "Curious about deeper kisses, baby?"

The fantasy blossoms all too easily. A long tongue, forked and probing, filling his mouth and pushing into him... He wrests his mind from it with a shake of his head. "I haven't had a normal kiss yet, so I don't know if I should be curious." He clears his throat. "I don't want to get ahead of myself, that's all."

Safe enough response.

"What?" Raihan's incredulity isn't directed at him. "You mean you haven't kissed him on the mouth yet? The hell have you been doing all this time, babe?"

Piers' eyes widen before his expression condenses defensive.

"Oi, it ain't my fault nothing's happened. We've tried, multiple times, but _someone's_ got a knack for interruptin' us whenever we try an' have another go at it." Piers seethes, face burning pink.

"How am I supposed to know when you two are trying to make moves on each other? You're both so shy about it, I swear, it's like watching two hatchlings trying to leave the nest for the very first time."

The swift bickering punts Leon into a daze. Said daze is the only thing keeping the embarrassment at bay. His friends are discussing something so personal so casually, out in the open without a care, like it's not something that's been eating Leon from the inside out ever since he won that very first kiss on the cheek.

They're talking about it like it's no big deal he wants to kiss Piers on the mouth.

...Wait. Is it not?

And isn't Piers admitting to wanting to kiss him too?

"You're the one goin' on about givin' us as much time as we please!"

"Well yeah, but I didn't think it'd take this long for you to kiss him. Sorry, for you to _not_ kiss him. Are you waiting for something or what?"

Piers trips over his words, a total rarity, but rounds back at full strength. "We can do it whenever we please!"

"Oh yeah? You got any way to prove your word, Prince of Àitesambith?"

"Nothin' I've said needs provin', _m'eudail_." Piers testily says what Leon assumes is an endearment. His tone settles down. "It'll happen when it happens."

The glance flicked his way carries something knowing. Accepting.

Raihan groans and flops back on top of them both, shoving the wind out of both their lungs. "Fine, fine... I'll try not to get impatient..."

"Thank ye kindly, love." Piers pats him smartly on the head and kisses the curve of a horn. "Don't need kisses to confirm nothin'."

Leon may be dense sometimes, but he's not so dense that the overall message contained within that exchange bounces off his head without sinking in.

If he were to say _I love you_ 's, they'd be met with open arms.

The realization of just how plausible it is that he could confess and not be rejected—that his feelings might be accepted outright—wipes his mind blank like surf blurring hurried footsteps from the sand.

He could ask to kiss Piers right now if he wanted. Raihan would get up and make room and eagerly watch, and Piers might make a coy comment and find some way to make him blush before sitting up and beckoning him closer.

Leon's heart rate accelerates until he's worried Raihan might feel it beating against him. It's all within reach. He just has to grab it. He could do it right now if he wanted to. What's stopping him from knocking on the door of the beautiful relationship in front of him?

An answer comes too easily and sobers his hope. He shouldn't add his feelings onto theirs when a guillotine dilemma still hangs over Piers. Accepting or denying his partner's mate-bond. That discussion still needs to happen, and while Leon has faith that it'll go over well, that Raihan will understand Piers' feelings and their relationship will carry on just as strong as it was before, if not stronger... the risk of their relationship being rocked is still there.

It's a worrisome thought, but Leon is kind of grateful to have a reason to not confess right away. This gives him more time to clarify his feelings to himself, as well as think of ways to potentially court either of them, because while he might resent the circumstances of his upbringing, he isn't about to discard everything he learned about chivalry and how to properly woo someone. This will be the very first time he tries any of it with his heart behind it, and he's not about to mess this up.

That settles it. No confessing until after Piers and Raihan have sorted out the mateship thing. He has no idea when that might be; it could be tomorrow, it could be in a month, but he's resolved to wait.

In the meantime he'll do his best to support them, and prove that he might be worthy of their love too.

A cold touch finds his hand beneath Raihan's weight. It startles him; how can Piers' hand still be so chilled after resting in the tight space between Leon's body and below Raihan's?

"Lee?"

He hums in question. Piers works their hands together, and Raihan holds himself marginally lighter to enable it. The heat of his hand flees into Piers', and he's happy to share his warmth.

"After dinner, instead of goin' to bed by yourself... wanna sleep up here with us? Plenty of room for ya."

His eyes widen at the dark faraway ceiling. Out of habit, he frames his mouth around a question, _are you sure?_ The words don't come out. He lets them fade. Accepts that Piers wouldn't have offered unless he wanted it to happen with the confident knowledge that his partner would want it too. Raihan's silence is of the interested type.

He can have this.

"Yeah... I'd like that."

Raihan noses at his neck, right over the spot he lavished in his bout of extra cuddliness. "We can plant our sunflower right in the middle. How's that sound, sweetheart?"

_He can have this._

"I think..." he quietly starts, without letting himself fret. "I'd like that a lot."

A heavy arm squeezes him proudly, and they fall into a cozy silence.

He used to be so scared of what might happen if he let himself feel for his friends more than just platonically. That anxiety is so distant now. Left behind in the dust, and he's realizing just how heavy it was now that he no longer carries it. How could he remain worried over being an intruder—that his feelings were inappropriate, unwanted, dangerous—when they're opening their arms to him like this? When they acknowledge his unsaid feelings without judgement or rejection, only acceptance, and warmth, and the reassurance that his feelings are just as important as theirs?

He had none of this in Rhondeland. Not from anyone who could look him in the eye as peer and equal, who wanted to bring out his best and most importantly, care about him as a person and not a prince.

Those days of princehood are so far behind him. He's determined to keep walking forward, keep leaving it behind, until it's so far under the horizon that not even a perch on the world's tallest mountain with the world's strongest telescope in his hands could help him see what he left behind. He can make his journey forward knowing he has loved ones at his side to match him step for step and pull him along when his own strength flags.

He's part of a new life now. One he wouldn't jeopardize for anything. His kingdom and king and old life are behind him, and he trusts the two at his side to never let those shadows come close to him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things sure are looking up for these three, huh?
> 
> (It's funny how the art in the pre-notes unknowingly predicted bits of the future on this chapter, which features Piers in a braid for the first time within the text, as well as Raihan questioning "wait... you haven't kissed yet???," which were two items that existed in the outline long before the wonderful art was made!)
> 
> Next chapter: An absence is felt.


	9. By Any Other Name

Grey dawn, hazy and languid as slow-growing light yawns over the eastern sky. Not a single cloud mars the expanse above; there's only the sweeping, pure gradient of infinity occupied solely by pale fading stars and the transition of darkness into light.

The horizon is a faraway thing, only a thin blurred line visible over the top of the wall surrounding the palace. The glorious River Rhonde blends with the distant mist, the sun still far too hidden to enable its signature scintillation.

Every day, King Rose of Rhondeland rises to greet the sun. It's a ritual of his, a sacred start to every morning, where all that exists is himself and the light that touches his kingdom. His quarters are the highest point in the capital city, ensuring that when dawn comes Rose is the first to witness it. Every change of blushing shade, every drop of drained-away darkness, every degree of warmth that the rising sun bestows through the air until it finally peeks over the world to shine on Rhondeland, starting with this very window.

He enjoys this private, intimate time with the light. It allows him to reflect, and organize his thoughts in peace. He'd be a much less functional king without this, and Rose is nothing if not a man who holds himself, and everyone around him, to mountain peak standards.

Kings must excel at many things. It is not enough to merely be good, or great, or wonderful. A king must be exceptional. To rule is to be responsible, and to have power over an entire kingdom, one must have immaculate control over every aspect. From agriculture to the military, from dealing with nobles to managing peasants, from smiling and hosting diplomats to ensuring every citizen within the border is happy and cared for. Justice, prosperity, punishment and redemption, all of these responsibilities lie in the sole palm of the king. He must be many things for Rhondeland—ruler, commander, guardian, protector. One could call Rose many things, but throughout it all, he is still only one man, the same throughout.

His most recent title, nearing ten years of bearing, was one that was easily tacked on to the list of all his other responsibilities. Nothing changed about him the day he took on a new name: Father. All that happened was that he gained a new set of responsibilities, one of which was a living, breathing, capable-of-bleeding project.

So much work went into that boy.

He remembers what a scrawny little thing he used to be. While their first official meeting didn't occur until years and years later, Rose kept careful track of all the prince candidates that showed true promise. He admits, back at the start he didn't see any potential within the dirty little rat scraped up from recently razed slums, but his knight captain—long-trusted and wise, if not a bit too smart in the mouth—saw enough promise within the boy to shunt him into the kingdom's secret program.

Rose isn't in the sunset of his rule by any means; in fact, he considers himself at its zenith, but he needed a successor when he had no children of his own.

It's no secret that Rose has no desire to take a spouse. He never saw a need for one, and prefers ruling without the distraction of romance. Companionship is not something he lacks thanks to a careful selection of tolerable advisors, and, most importantly, his most trusted agent. Unmarried he may be, but never once was he lonely.

The only issue born of not taking a spouse was the lack of an heir. That, too, he is unconcerned with. Blood matters little when it comes to potential, and imagine the embarrassment and shame he might feel if whatever brat born of his blood turned out to be an incompetent failure.

Better to hand pick a prince to get the best results. Someone he could mold into the ideal vessel to best carry Rhondeland's bright future. Rose knew exactly what had to be put into a prince-to-be; all that remained was finding someone with the mettle to withstand and embrace it.

Thus was born his plan. Observe the population—not personally, of course, he has people for that—and approach any who showed promise, no matter if they were noble or common. The only important thing was that they were children with nothing to lose. Why would Rose want a prince who only worked hard out of a concern for others? No, he wanted someone who strove to succeed for the simple sake of being the best. Not because they had something to protect, or someone to save, but because they yearned to make their own achievements. He wanted someone who carried their own torch for no one but themselves, who could plant it at the peak and know that it was them alone that drove their journey to the top. That was the sort of single-minded determination Rose sought.

Of course, other traits were desirable as well, that would be tested in the process. A desire to learn and keep learning. A sense of objective, yet compassionate fairness. The power of memorization, analysis, accurate conjecture. An appreciation of arts, music, and culture. The charisma to charm a population, and the strength and stature needed to instill a sense of security just by glancing upon their form. And, of course, a willingness and ability to kill with steady hands and unflinching eyes and a pristine, righteous smile.

Month by month, year by year, hopefuls of all ages dropped out or proved themselves unworthy for various reasons, and throughout it all that little boy dredged from filth with only a gleam in his eye to hint at something worth polishing inside carved his way to the top.

The grey dawn blushes into pink, a subtle, sensual transition that entices a smile to the king's face as he leans upon the polished sill. Soon, the light will break, and fall upon this very window before it touches anything else in his land. Just a few minutes more.

Now, where was he... Ah, yes. The boy established himself as worthy competition among the other prince hopefuls. Initially overlooked, yes, but he soon collected attention from all the tutors thanks to his absurdly rapid progress and standout charisma. A few years in, Rose's interest was high enough to ask one of the handlers for the name of that boy who blossomed so quickly, and it was given with a smile of genuine pride that Rose took keen note of.

The boy's name: Leon. Family name unknown, as he had no family to speak of—none that were known about, at least, because Goddess knows those slum-goers spread themselves about like vermin. The boy was simply Leon, and his name was on the lips of every tutor and handler. Leon, Leon, Leon.

(Interestingly, an unnaturally noble name for one who came from the most undesirable corners of Rhondeland. It must have been a silly fantasy of his mother's, that she would give such a high-born name to her whelp. If Rose ever wondered or cared to ask her what her thought process was, he'd have had her hunted down. It's too late for such things; those slums have long since been burned away and replaced with infrastructure more fitting of a prosperous kingdom. It felt so good to rub those dark spots off of his map and see beautiful, clean lines inked in their place.)

After years of peaceful, stable rule went by under Rose's watchful eye, he was notified that at last, an ideal candidate for prince was ready for final approval. Someone who soared so high above the rest that the few remaining children could not hope to even graze the soles of his shoes. Rose told them to bring the boy without revealing who it was just yet, because he knew in his gut the face he would see, and sure enough, it was Leon who was brought to his otherwise-empty throne room, posture perfect, gaze straight ahead, equipped with nothing but simple clothes and a sword strapped to his hip for his final and most-vital test.

Rose held back. He didn't want to kill the boy, after all. Only to put the most important trait to the test by means of steel.

Leon had reacted instantly, blocking the cold bite lunging for his throat and staying on the defense until Rose ordered him to attack, eyes sharp for every visible thought process he could read from the boy. Leon had chosen to go for incapacitation, not for the kill, a marvelous thing that revealed he could keep a strategic mindset even when death had its jaws around him. Had Leon reactively targeted his head, Rose would have been most disappointed.

Their fight was quick; Leon might have been a brilliant swordsman for someone only seventeen, but his experience was lacking while Rose had decades of it under his belt. The clatter of Leon's sword against stone was not the end. No, the real test, the thing Rose wanted to examine, came immediately after the boy's defeat.

The king stood over the young man who might soon be prince, neutrally meeting the burning gold gaze and letting it search him for the very first time. There was fire there, bright and penetrating like the rays of the sun so familiar and beloved. Those fires could be so easily stoked into potential rebellion, and the last thing Rose needed was a wildfire in his midst, a sword that was all blade and no handle.

With every second the boy refused to back down, the more Rose was tempted to snuff that golden flame by fitting the point of his blade deep into the hollow of the boy's exposed throat and calling this one another failure.

In the moment before Rose's will shifted into the decision, Leon made him proud by doing the right thing. He looked away. Bowed his head.

Submission.

Beautiful, beautiful acceptance of his rightful place. Leon had passed his final test.

Rose smiled, lowered his blade, and offered a hand. It was taken hesitantly, and those eyes that nearly brought the boy to his end only held confusion at the proud clap on his shoulder. Without that nasty insubordination clouding them, those eyes were like the sun. A divine sign that all this was meant to be.

_"Leon, Prince of Rhondeland. I know you'll become everything I expect of you."_

And he had. Leon became everything a newly-made father could hope for. He cleaned up marvelously well, and had a thirst for knowledge unrivaled among all his age. His talents, unmatched. His charisma and intelligence, innate. His willingness to do whatever it takes... gloriously straightforward.

Ideally, he would be a touch more manipulable and moldable, as while the boy had an ample amount of desirable traits, he came with so many undesirable ones as well. It was no large issue; all that had to be done was to carve those pieces away to make room for better things, so that Leon would earn every title that came his way.

Just as Rose is King, Commander, and Father, Leon is Prince, Champion, precious son. So many titles for one young man. Anyone else wouldn't be worthy of the weight of them all.

The title of Champion wasn't something he initially meant to grant the boy. Normally the two positions of Prince and Champion are completely separate, but the opportunity was too good to resist. Leon was special, powerful, and it would be a waste not to elevate him far beyond what an average prince could achieve. For all the talents and skills required to become a worthy and powerful king, Leon shone most brightly with sword and shield in hand. He outgrew nearly every instructor Rose could throw at him, won tournament after tournament set up to test him and show off to the public what an incredible warrior their prince could be, and he established such thorough dominance over any monster that needed slaying that Leon more than earned his dual title.

Powerful, inspiring, personified incandescence. A figure worthy of the crown, save for those infuriating flaws that he tried time and time again to chisel away. Some were excised with precision within a single lesson; others took time to grind and whittle and polish over.

It was completely necessary, to break down all the non-essential parts to leave only the core standing, to make room for better things to be built. Rose had a sneaking suspicion that Leon never truly let go of some of his less desirable traits—his tendency to get overly excited, his habit of getting a bit too invested in the affairs of commoners who crossed paths with him—but the fact that the boy could suppress and hide them well enough to not let them interfere with his duties is a commendable enough quality on its own. It shows an awareness of the importance of his duties and a willingness to prioritize responsibility over personal whims and fancies, so Rose had no issue letting him cling to those small flaws. There's no harm in allowing the boy enough to retain enough relatively harmless defects to provide the motivation needed to practice maintaining a mask. Light knows Leon needs all the help he can get at that. His genuineness might be charming, but it's just too exploitable by anyone wanting to take advantage of him, and Rose can't allow that to happen, not unless it's in a controlled environment meant to teach a lesson. The only one allowed to guide his son's path is himself. He'll tolerate no one else's meddling.

After all, the only one suited to nurture a prince is a king. Leon's growth is safe in his hands. He only wants what's best for his prince, to ensure their nation's future growth and furthered prosperity. Everything he does is in the name of the greater good.

Pale rays of light finally breach the horizon and cast a golden sheen over the sky. Rose closes his eyes and patiently waits for the light to slide from roof, to window, to at last grace his face, mind still on his pride. His precious, valued prince. The boy grew from a dirty waif into the most prized and precious asset their kingdom possesses.

When the boy approached him with a plan for a quest, he was skeptical at first, but that apprehension quickly faded into pride once the discussion gained momentum and his attention and interest was earned. Leon wanted to negotiate with him. To use this quest for personal gain. Within that one conversation, the boy showed off so many aspects of what Rose wanted to instill in him for years upon years. The ability to plan ahead, to foresee the consequences of both success and failure and find the bright and dark sides of both, with contingency plans in place for every outcome. A stoic mask and firm, steady voice when presenting the plan, not a single emotion betrayed. Leon was everything Rose wanted in those minutes he presented his case for being allowed to go on a long journey.

How could a proud father say no?

Besides, there were hidden benefits to allowing Leon the freedom to travel abroad on his own. It would require his passage through the borders of surrounding kingdoms, countries whose allyship and submission to Rhondeland would be tested and reconfirmed based on how they granted the prince safe travels through their lands. It would show the boy off as well, this warrior prince whose exploits have spread far and wide on the words of many but were only witnessed by those fortunate enough to live within Rhondeland's borders. The quest would be a good small-scale debut for their prince, regardless of his success or failure.

Of course he had expectations that his son would succeed. It matters not that his loftiest goal was an absurd one. Dragon slaying is an ambitious, appropriate quest for a brilliant young man such as he. If there were anyone in this world able to secure a solo victory against those maddening beasts, it would be Rhondeland's pride and joy of a prince.

Dragons...

Powerful, frustrating creatures. Intelligent. Crafty. Filled with greed and a disregard for the greater good. They're smart enough to speak and wield rational thought and are more than willing to have conversations, which makes it all the more infuriating that they see themselves as above the affairs of the world. Dragons have no respect for political borders and no fear of humans. They sit on land that's rich with resources and do absolutely nothing with it, only frighten away those who would put that land to good use to contribute to the progress of the world. Thank the Goddess of Light there are none squatting in Rhondeland. If any tried, Rose would have them either chased off or slain. Gigantic, haughty, short-sighted inhibitors, that's all they are.

He wouldn't mind if the world contained less of them. All the better that they be slain by the hand of the best Rhondeland can offer. Perhaps he could work it into another title for the lad. Prince Leon, Champion of Rhondeland, Conqueror of Dragons... That has a nice ring to it. The public would eat it up.

The warmth of the sun kisses him good morning at last. He smiles and basks in it, revels in the splendor glowing red through closed eyes.

Now he's ready to face the day. Rose turns away from the resplendent dawn and his gold-lit window, leaving the stained glass panes wide open to allow as much light as possible into his bedchambers.

The heat of the sun lingers on his face even as he steps into the darker shadows of a deeper, inner room, one lit only by torches, with no windows to the outside to speak of. Servants await him here, to dress him for the day. They bow their heads silently and set about dismantling his sleep clothes, replacing them with subdued garments that speak of his intention to remain within the palace. No public appearances for him today.

Once dressed, the servants file away. Silent, skilled, and meek, appropriate for their station. He so loves it when people perform exactly what's expected of them.

He trails around the room, nostalgia on his heels. This inner chamber is where he would call Leon in for quality time between father and son. He did his best to keep this space comfortable by renovating it after Leon first earned his titles. With calm air, no windows to allow the distractions of outside to intrude, and low, steady light, Rose thinks he did a good job. In here, it's warm and soft and safe, a haven, where Leon could relax and let go of the other stresses of his day, and they could talk candidly face to face to discuss the boy's progress and re-align his motivations whenever he strayed from his path.

Without the prince, the room feels a tad on the empty side, even with its rich furnishings and snug atmosphere. Leon has a talent for livening up a space just by existing no matter how neutral his expression and proper his posture is.

Rose chuckles to himself. How strange, for him to actually miss someone. He doesn't consider himself a sentimental man, but he supposes it's not unnatural to feel wistful over something he invested so much time and effort and resources into. And, he can admit, a bit of pride and positive emotion as well.

He sighs as he passes the lonely chess board. The pieces stand at the ready, occupied with the noble task of collecting as much dust as possible whenever his back is turned. Rose lifts the black king from the board and thumbs along the smooth, cool marble to see its shine. The gold band running around the top of its abstract 'crown' easily heats beneath his touch. He's cornered this piece countless times. So many games, so many victories... Leon's gotten better, so much better over the years, but still has much to learn. 

The first thing Rose wants to do with his returned prince is set them both to playing a match and have pleasant conversation about the boy's travels as they do so. The quest has no doubt done wondrous good to show him what the world is really like. Rose looks forward to being told everything his son learned on his journey. He must be learning quite a bit, if he's taking so long to come home.

The little stone king returns to its square, amidst the full set with which it belongs. Nice and neat and fully complete. It'll stay that way, for Rose has never, in all his life, been one to lose track of his pieces.

He knew to grant a little grace time for his most treasured asset's quest, as that abysmal sense of direction was a trait no one could hope to carve out of the boy. Strangely enough, despite his complete lack of internal compass Leon always managed to be where he needed to be on time, give or take. Some blessing of the gods, surely. For a quest as expansive as the one Leon proposed, however, some extra wide margin of error had to be given.

Two weeks was generous enough and there's still no sign of him returning. It's just enough time to shift Rose's perspective from Leon needing the leeway... to him being unaccounted for.

He doesn't want to use the word lost, for as much as Leon has a terrible sense of direction, what matters is that Rose himself doesn't lose track of him. No son is ever truly lost as long as their father knows what they're up to, and for those three agreed-upon months, Rose could state with a smile that of course Leon was working hard on achieving glory. For those three months Leon strove to make him, and Rhondeland, proud.

Leons' activity and motivations for those extra two weeks, however?

Borderline unknown.

Rose so despises the unknown. He is a man who desires light and truth and clarity and control above all else. None of that... vague, hands-free, operates-under-trust nonsense that other countries seem to think is wise.

It annoys him that by losing track of Leon, he has something in common with one land in particular. It curdles his mood to think he could be put in the same league as them.

'Them' being Àitesambith, wretched land of shade-born mystery. So far north that they border the so-called Remnant Lands, those dangerous, ancient grounds that were host to the magic-fueled wars that brought about the second apocalypse, the healing from which was the dawn of the era of human control. Just like dragons, they keep to themselves, and don't get involved on the world stage beyond the most basic of courtesies. 

He remembers their little prince of the dark only vaguely. He wouldn't remember that slip of a thing at all had the boy not stared at him so evenly when they first met. Rose was only interested in talking to the queen ruler of the country, but that little boy she carted along looked at him with the honesty only a child's eyes can hold, and the message nocked in that honesty was something rebellious and unapologetic. Rose kept up his smiles, of course, as the boy was a prince and he did not want to offend the mother queen, but he couldn't shake the sense that the boy saw right through him somehow.

He hated it, and hated that a child—a reedy little thing so pale he might combust in direct sunlight—could pull such strong feelings to the surface.

Imagine his pleasant surprise when he learned Àitesambith recently lost the boy. It's not international news, as Àitesambith has always been secretive, but Rose couldn't help but keep remote tabs on them. According to his contact, the prince was hidden, unseen by the public for years with no one knowing where he went and only a widowed king's word to reassure them. He was allegedly snatched up by some kind of beast strong enough to demolish a castle's stone turrets and leave it gaping. No monster was ever found, no prince either, only stone wreckage.

That's the natural consequence of allowing dangerous creatures to roam through the land unchecked. Look at what it got them. A prince assumed dead. A grieving king. A young crown princess who can't possibly measure up to the admittedly-strong ruler her late mother was.

Yes, Rose is far better than them. While that miserable country lost their prince for good, Rose will get his back.

He sighs and pushes the faraway kingdom from his mind. It's not good that such a small and otherwise unremarkable kingdom takes up so much space in his mind. He needs to focus on more productive things.

A large, heavy writing desk sits on top of plush carpet, a lavish tapestry behind it and several lamps already lit to grant him ample light to read and write. There's nothing on the desk he hasn't already seen, but one particular document rests unfolded on the top. The parchment crackles as he lifts it, and he reaches for the small reading glass resting on an upper shelf of the desk, and holds the disc over the paper to better allow him to make out the small, cramped writing.

A report.

Listed in dark ink are a mostly-ordered set of observations. In the margin of each sentence is either a dot, meaning confirmed truth, a cross, denoting rumor, or two vertical bars, for conclusions drawn based on the preceding information.

Most of it is rumor and conjecture. Very few facts.

Charred and mangled armor made an inexplicable appearance in a small city, sold for scrap by a wandering merchant, the material and design of which was nearly impossible to inspect thanks to how thoroughly it was rent. Some vicious, magical beast obviously got to it, but they didn't destroy it so much that it couldn't be matched to what Leon equipped for his quest. Despite the scorching, there was no scent of burnt flesh or hair, no blood burned into the metal.

A dragon is rumored to have taken up recent residence in lands left unclaimed by the surrounding kingdoms, untouched thanks to local legends of a terrifying wizard who made his home in those wild forests, a man happy to obliterate any who dared disturb him. A man who hasn't been heard from in months. Some say the wizard turned into the dragon, others say he summoned the beast, others speculate that the dragon came along and ate him, wanting to claim the precious lands for its own. The beast resides to the west. The same direction Leon went.

Rose shifts the reading glass to the bottom of the page to read his favorite tidbit.

A strange man with _'hair like those flowers' (child pointed at a patch of violets)_ passed through a small town on the very edge of one of the kingdoms bordering the untamed wilds inhabited by that wizard.

No other sightings or rumors of the prince past that point. Everyone who saw him only saw him once, as he traveled in one direction.

Implication: no return trip.

Rose folds the parchment and sets it aside.

It's too much of a coincidence that Leon disappeared in the perfect blind spot, a location rumored to contain exactly what the prince was looking to slaughter.

The letter made no speculation that Leon might have been defeated or killed, a detail that Rose noted with a grim set to his mouth. He knows that his adoptive son is alive and well out there, wherever he may be. Anyone who might imply otherwise would earn themselves an invitation to punishment.

Despite all of the imperfections Rose couldn't hammer out of the boy in all his forging, Leon is nothing if not a tenacious survivor. No one who's earned Rose's faith would ever fall to a death as ignoble as one dealt by the claws and teeth of a monster. The fact that the armor was found in a state that suggested it was removed before being destroyed lends heavy credibility to his intuition that Leon is alive. Perhaps not well, but at the very least, alive.

For all he knows, the prince just needs a touch of guidance to get back home. He expected he might have to resort to this, but held on to some incongruous hope that Leon might return home without help, laden with the spoils of his overwhelming victory.

It's time to drop those delusions.

Rose needs to send someone to fetch his champion from whatever lost corner he's found himself in. Someone who can slip unseen through every border along the way and execute his will without alerting any neighboring kingdoms. The only person in this world whose competence he would entrust his very life to.

It's not often that he sends the sorceress so far away when she's proved herself so useful inside of the country's deeper systems.

There's no helping it this time.

Rhondeland needs her champion. A king needs his prince. A father, his son. If Leon is lost, he simply needs to be found.

Rose only needs to think about summoning his most trusted advisor for her to heed his call.

She steps out of her own umbra, darkness clinging to her dress and trailing off the hem of it like sooty cobwebs as she enters the warm glow of torch and lamplight. He eyes the blackness with a note of displeasure, as always, but it's nothing harmful. Merely a consequence of the powerful magic she wields. What a treasure she was to find, a small child wreathed in misunderstandings and trembling in the filth. Shunned by her village for the power in her tiny hands and welcomed by the man who saw her true potential and lifted her out of the mud and into his perfect kingdom of light. Rose might cherish the life-giving sun and all the warmth and glory it provides, but he would be foolish to ignore how the light casts shadows, and that there is power and control to be found in those murky unknowns as well as within the clarity of light. Rose just needed the right person through which to delve into those unknowns, and make them his as well.

His rule over Rhondeland would be incomplete without her. His most trusted companion. If there ever was a person to be called his other half, it would be her.

"Oleana?"

She bows. He's told her many times that she doesn't have to, not when it's just the two of them, but since it makes her happy, he allows it. The sorceress straightens and meets his gaze evenly.

"Yes, my king?"

There she goes again, addressing him like that. He's told her, when they're alone, she can call him Rose. Not that it really matters. All titles point to the same man in the end, and it's that one man who has an order at the ready.

King Rose of Rhondeland, protector, guide, inspiration to all within his kingdom of light and father to an absent son, smiles a shining smile. It's finally time.

"Find him."

"Yes, my king." She bows, needing no elaboration on the command, and turns and steps through a curtain of shadow of her own creation. In the span of a flicker of torchlight, she's gone, leaving Rose to stare at the space she used to occupy, fully at ease knowing his desires are in such capable hands.

She'll get him what he wants. She always has. He only has to say the word and Oleana will take care of the rest, and what he's asking of her now is simple. Trivial for someone of her caliber.

_Find him, and bring him back to me._


	10. To Ask For His Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good to see y'all again!
> 
> We're now up to an E rating, folks, this chapter contains smut. Nothing penetrative, but smut nonetheless! It won't be the last of the porn, either.

Summer has nearly finished its inevitable approach over the land and made itself at home. The air is dense with a steadier warmth than springtime could provide, and while wind still flows freely over the fields and through leaf-laden trees, it's burdened with heat and new humidity, leaving the only reliable respites from the sun to be shade and sweet water.

Absorbed in his current activity, Leon opts for shade. The shadow the tower casts over the field acts a decent clock when one is stationed within it, completely in the zone and unable to focus on anything outside of their own body and thoughts.

Leon's breathing is deep, measured, taken from the stomach instead of the tops of his lungs for maximum capacity and oxygen intake as he hefts his bodyweight away from the ground, then back down, until his nose is tickled by grass, and back up again. Practiced repetition. The heavy breeze, laden with summer's damp, does nothing to carry the sweat off his bare skin. It's unpleasant, sure, but ignorable; he's exercised in far worse conditions than this. All he needs to stay focused are a routine to track his progress through, and something to occupy his thoughts in the space between each motion.

What occupies his thoughts right now are the same things that occupy them when he isn't exercising: Raihan and Piers. His housemates, his companions. Allies and friends. Two people he would very much like to confess his romantic feelings towards, and two people responsible for no small amount of sexual frustration lately. He's taking care of the latter right now by wearing himself out. Letting his blood flow and race via calisthenics instead of letting it pool anywhere he'd feel shame about manually dispersing.

A shame he's felt too many times lately.

_"Mmh..." Thin lids, heavy with sleep, fluttered open against Leon's shoulder, feathery eyelashes tickling as they lifted and revealed the most sacred sight he could ever be blessed to wake up to._

_"G'mornin', Lee."_

_The bed was empty save for them; once again, Raihan must have left early to take care of something in the territory. Once again, they were alone. Just him and the object of his intense affections, under loose blankets with only thin clothes between them. A pale finger traced sleepy circles over his chest, goosebumps rising in their wake. Piers was so warm like this, edges softened, skin rosy from both warmth and the ambient morning light, pressed against him yet still so yielding..._

Leon growls and shakes his head. Sweat rolls down his face, encouraged to fall faster each time he goes against gravity on the next rep, and the next, and the next, each push-up steady and smooth and swift.

He just has to not think about kisses with forked tongues that could—hypothetically—reach all the way into him, or of burning lips and sharp teeth against his neck, or of how Piers can squirm or sigh or sway his hips or the way Raihan is so confident about leading the way. No thinking about waking up with warm bodies against him, or of hardness pressing against his hip or sleepy mumbles into his ear that drive him to escape the bed and get a head start on his day by desperately indulging in an aforementioned shame while leaning against the outside wall of the cottage, grateful for how easy it is to finish quickly.

No thinking about any of that.

Leon curses under his breath and starts another set, faster than before, throwing his weight harder into every repetition and welcoming the scorch in his shoulders. It's a good pain, a productive one. Invest a little pain and reap future growth, isn't that how so many things work in this world? He shoves himself high enough to whisk his hands off the ground and clap before falling. The sharp sound slaps himself back into clearer thoughts, such as romance, and the strange limbo of progress he's been in.

Yes, these are much more productive to think about.

The way the three of them have been living together lately is almost like a relationship. At least, what Leon thinks a relationship would be like. More and more often, he's been sleeping with them in their bed, expanse of leathery wing acting an extra blanket over him and Piers both. There's more touches that linger, more catching either of them staring when he wasn't paying attention. Piers always looks away once caught and smoothly returns to whatever he was doing, while Raihan only smiles and saunters up to fix his hair with some flirtatious comment or two. Each moment adds another pebble to the mountain pressing against his chest from the inside, building and building to the point that he swears he's one caress away from an _I love you_ erupting out of him.

There's nothing stopping him from taking initiative. He could hunt either man down and spill his love-saturated guts, or sit them both together and confess to them as a couple. They've proved, however indirectly, with or without words, that whatever he feels, they won't spurn or judge him for it. They might even welcome it. Piers practically stated outright on that first day they all shared a bed that he wouldn't mind kissing him, and that, quote, they "don't need kisses to confirm anything!" There is literally nothing preventing him from making his feelings known. It would honestly be the merciful route—for himself, that is.

But. Leon won't. Not now, at least, and he's got his reasons! Valid, rational, reasonable reasons! One, he doesn't want to insert himself into a relationship that still has a gigantic hurdle to overcome, in the form of Piers and Raihan resolving the mateship problem that only Piers knows is a problem (he really should ask how that's coming along), and two...

Two is far more personal. Personal and grapple-worthy. Even if the whole "those two need to have a talk about their own future" thing didn't exist, this alone would stall him.

Leon holds himself in the down position, nearly parallel to the ground. A drop of sweat slips down his skin, ignored despite the tickle, until it drips and vanishes into the clover below. He closes his eyes to the green and lets out a steady breath.

The second thing holding him back is that he wants to properly court his loves before asking them to accept his feelings.

It's not about proving himself worthy as a person. He knows they already accept and approve of him. It's more... the celebration of love, and the celebration of the process leading up to partnering with someone, making them yours. Celebrations he wants to take part in now that he has the freedom to.

Romance—true romance, where he actually felt something and yearned for a connection—was always denied to him in Rhondeland. At the time, he cared little, since he had no time or energy to spare for relationships beyond the professional. He's gone through the motions of courting people before (under Rose's encouragement, to try and get on the good sides of the children of foreign royalty) but his heart was never in it. It was just another task and duty of the prince. He struggled to genuinely woo anyone when the only motivations were political, and after it became clear that he couldn't fake the necessary emotional investment, Rose stopped nudging him into doing it lest it do more harm than good.

That didn't stop all the lessons he learned over the years about formal courting processes from lingering in his head. How to dance, how to invite someone out, the meanings of flowers and what colors of wax to seal his letters in to add nuance and context both to the feelings contained within. He never thought a day might come where he would want to apply those lessons in earnest. He has people he loves now, that he wants to impress and have fun impressing. A casual confession with no fanfare might be well-received, but he can do so much better than that. So much better! Raihan and Piers deserve everything he can give them.

Leon's got all the conviction in the world, but there is one obstacle between intent and execution. Nothing unsurmountable, but an obstacle all the same.

All those lessons he learned about formal romantic proceedings? They all required resources and money to back them. As a prince, such things were available to him. If he wanted to reserve an established dining experience for a date, all he would have to do is make the request, and (if Rose approved) it would be done. Jewelry and lavish clothes, exotic flowers and perfumes, all such gifts could be easily obtained and presented within ornate wrappings and carved boxes and ribbons of silk so fine that the whisper of it being pulled loose from its bow would be a daring, intimate message of its own.

Leon can no longer do any of that. While he doesn't consider himself destitute—quite the opposite, as being self-sufficient in a remote place like this is a wondrous thing—he's still no prince, not anymore. There's no royal vault, no treasury, no allowance he can put to good use. No artisans to commission or marketplaces to peruse. No glamorous locations to take his beloveds on fancy dates.

All he has is himself, his own creativity, and whatever the land of Raihan's territory has to offer. It's certainly got plenty of flowers, and sweet things hidden in the forests in the form of fruits and honey. And the land itself is gorgeous, bountiful and beautiful and flourishing in every corner thanks to its guardian's attentive care. That's a problem in itself when it comes to courting Raihan—what could Leon give him that the dragon doesn't already own?

Piers is royalty more than he is, through blood and birthright rather than through adoption and upbringing; it feels wrong to romance him without gifting luxuries. He just needs to shake off that mindset. Piers shed his royal title and all the social necessities that came with it. Leon can work within that. In fact, it would be respectful of Piers' willing abandonment of his title to not romance him as if he were a prince.

As for Raihan...

He's been stuck on what to do for Raihan.

Piers will surely recognize (and appreciate) Leon's efforts to woo him, but Raihan's a dragon. If there's anything Leon's learned from all his enlightening talks with his friend, it's that the dragon way of thinking misaligns with the average human's in so many ways. Still, he thinks he'd be able to court a dragon based on what he's learned so far. Out of all the people in this world, he'd say he's more than qualified to try! Raihan deserves the same amount of effort, same amount of care, that any romantic would put forth to the one whose hand they desire. It doesn't matter that Raihan's more of the initiative-taker, the one who always bursts with confidence, who rarely reveals that he's dependent on either of them for anything. That's no reason for Leon to slack and treat him any differently. Raihan deserves the full demonstration of _I love you, I care for you, I intend to make you happy,_ just as Piers does, but how?

What could he gift a dragon that would be seen as appropriately meaningful? Something not physical? Things like time, effort, attention, opportunity...? Trust?

...Himself?

Would that work?

It's certainly an idea...

Leon pushes out a tight sigh and maintains his plank position. It's been several minutes and he knows he can hold for far longer. Time always slows to a crawl on this particular exercise, but he doesn't quite mind it when he has so many things to ponder and not enough time to ponder them in. Where was he?

Raihan. Back at the very beginning he wanted to slay him as a monster, and now he wants to court him as a desired partner.

The love he feels for Raihan might feel different than the love he feels for Piers, but it's love all the same. The dragon snuck into his heart so quietly he barely noticed. So many things, so many little things he's done, whose reflections are colored differently under the lens that is hindsight.

_"How much longer, do you think?"_

_Raihan tipped his handsome head back. Steam sighed through his fangs that rose into the early morning air. Leon almost felt bad for asking, but when a fifth day had come and gone with Piers not looking him in the eye, hardly saying a word beyond a hushed_ good morning _, he sought the dragon out for both company and comfort._

_"Don't worry about it, Lee, he'll come around. I don't think anyone could leave you of all people hanging for long."_

_Some of the weight left him. Some, not all. The best amount he could hope for, all things considered._

_"If you say so..."_

_A broad hand clapped onto his shoulder, jolting him out of despondency. "Say, I'm feeling like a hunt. Let's catch something special for tonight, Piers always perks up with fresh ingredients. Bet you I can spot the best prey first."_

Leon's disappointed with himself that he didn't realize the full significance of the act at the time. Not even when both their hands were rinsed of blood from skinning and dressing their quarry did he realize that Raihan's thoughts weren't only on his withdrawn partner. He wanted to make Leon feel better too, by taking his mind off the stress of the unknown and giving him something to do with his hands, senses, and skills. Something active and engaging. It was everything he needed at the time, and yet he didn't recognize it as the gift it truly was, thinking that it was all for Piers' sake and none for his own.

Why did he have to be so dense... He was so worried over Piers being distant that he hardly noticed the support he was actively receiving.

He reaches for a more recent past. One where he and his friends are distant no longer, together again, the safety of it raw and tender like a burn.

_In his bedroom, moonlight painted life surreal. Up in the tower, Raihan and Piers were together at last after so many nights of separation. Leon was more than happy to grant them privacy and togetherness while he staggered into his room to face his latest revelation alone._

_He got no sleep that night. Instead, his mind rattled with what-ifs and could-it-be?'s that took him absolutely nowhere. He was simply too shaken from everything that happened in the Deep Wood to muster any coherent thoughts, and had only one anchor. A song. Lyrics bound tight to his heart—battened and barred and locked in place by the one who gave them to the one who lost them—ran through his mind over and over, start to finish like a prayer. They leaked through his lips like one too, hushed and earnest with no rhythm beyond churning each syllable out one after another, hoping to sear their shape into his lips to the point of automation._

_The stars were still out when Raihan found him leaning against the sill. It was merely a check-up, Rai insisted, to make sure he was alright after the quote unquote drama of everything. After inspecting the cut the dragon had personally sealed over with a mindful mouth, the window gained another occupant, and the stars one more member of their audience._

_They talked about the near-fight. Reflected on it. Learned from it. And when there was nothing left to say, they merely stood there, a hand's distance apart, watching the sky together. Raihan bade him goodnight before long, the farewell given physicality by a long tail looping around his leg, squeezing, and slipping undone._

_"You'll have to teach me that lullaby sometime," he murmured. "Piers told me about it. I'm no songbird, but it's special to you, right? I don't want to be the only one who doesn't know it."_

His next breath strains as his shoulders scream in earnest. Time to get up.

Leon pushes himself to his feet with a tight groan and shakes out his arms. The burn washes out of his shoulders, leaving them feeling strung but satisfied. That's the feeling he was chasing. He slides one leg forward and bends his knees into a lunge at perfect right angles, and arcs his tired arms overhead to join in a tight stretch that does wonders for his heavily-worked shoulders.

Two men, two loves, two people whose hands and hearts he wants to hold and be held by.

The thing he needs to start with is a final double-check confirmation that his intentions are acceptable. Intentions, not feelings! He's technically making moves on people who are already taken, and it'd be terrible etiquette to flirt without asking the other for permission. Redundant as it may be, he wants to do this right.

He'd like to ask Raihan first, for his blessing, and to honor the dragon mentality and culture regarding ownership and possession. Piers belongs to Raihan—and vice versa—so it's only appropriate to ask the dragon for his partner's hand. Plus, Raihan is far less intimidating to speak to on casual terms, and might even have some advice. It should be no trouble at all to catch Raihan alone and say his piece. Ask for approval on his plan to woo Piers.

Hopefully, in terms of _said_ versus _done_ , it's equally easy. He just hopes that whenever he asks, he doesn't get distracted by Raihan's body, glorious thing that it is. He's got a much better appreciation of the dragon's form ever since he got to cuddle up to it and explore a little. The hard, lean muscle, the near-complete lack of body fat, the supple skin scattered with scars and hard scales. Said scales catch the sun and throw it in such bold colors. Deep indigo, like the space between stars in the night sky. Segments of gold that put any ore to shame. The orange, too, like sunset stained brilliantly onto water...

He switches legs and takes a moment to retie his hair in a higher ponytail than before. It's starting to severely stick to his upper back.

For the rest of his routine—squats, various abdominal exercises, lunges up and down the length of the shadow of the tower—he manages to vacate his thoughts and focus only on putting his body through its paces.

It's in the middle of a plank that the sun has pushed the shadow of the tower in a slow sweep sideways enough to reach his bare feet. Just in time to start his cool-down. Stretching after wearing oneself out can be strenuous, and doesn't make him any less sweaty, but it's important to wind down properly and is just as important a ritual as the exercise itself.

Goddess, that's better. His head is much, much clearer than it was before he started. This was just what he needed.

Something white flutters down in front of his face, catching on the breeze and almost flying away before he snatches it from the air.

A cloth...?

Leon looks up, and high up there in the window of the tower is one of his two favorite people. How long was Piers watching him for? If he knew, he would have shown off a lot more... done some fancier push-ups, like the one-handed ones, or the ones where he does a handstand and balances all the way down and back up. A one-handed handstand push-up sounds doable! Or, it would, if he wasn't exhausted. He did his job too well.

He grins and waves upward, and the small smile and wiggle of fingers returned has his heart pumping as if he were in the middle of a workout again. The moment is brief, as Piers turns away and vanishes with a flicker of black and white.

Goddess, he can't wait until he can kiss that man. No waiting on Piers to do it for him, he'll make the first move! Take charge! And hope he doesn't mess it up! Kissing can't be that hard, right? He's seen Raihan and Piers kiss plenty of times, and it looks simple enough to emulate. If only he had the experience to confirm... nothing to do about that, though.

Reluctant to take his eyes off the window, Leon looks down at the cloth. High quality fabric. Nothing that should be wasted on his sweaty brow, but he's not about to spurn this gift.

A moment later, the soft, smooth fabric becomes soft and smooth and _damp_ fabric, marginally heavier in his grateful hand.

For people so kind, that hold his heart so dearly, he must give his absolute best. Not once in his life has he ever not given a mission his all, and in the name of every god and goddess he knows, he'll give this most important one every ounce of energy and willpower he has.

* * *

Raihan always grants his partner privacy when he expresses the need to write. Whether it's poetry, study notes from his readings, or a letter meant for home, the introspective prince does better without his lover hovering and inevitably distracting him. This time it's a letter home, so on the bright side, Raihan won't have to play keep-away for long. When writing to his sister, the words flow straight from brain to paper, and once complete, Raihan can expect an envelope to be handed to him before the end of the night, ready to be delivered to their one trusted contact right outside the territory.

Until that happens, he'll relax and enjoy the sunshine. The summer of this land is so temperate compared to what he's used to. His formative years were of desert and savannah and bare-faced mountains, places where the sky reigned supreme and the storms roiled their fiercest. He might have explored all around the world since then, from jungle to tundra, open sea to coral reefs, mountains that scrape the belly of the heavens to the stunning underground of sprawling caves systems, but his heart's best memories are those of scorching sun and freezing nights with nothing between him and the sky. Compared to everything else, sprawling on a grassy hill while fluffy clouds roll by is so neutral and pleasant it's almost boring.

The extremes of the world, that's where Raihan finds the most fun. Pushing his adaptability to the limits with lungs that can breathe in toxic springs, or a hide that can withstand a wasteland's volcanic calefaction, or wings so broad and thin he can soar for days on end above open sea with nary a flap, making company out of albatrosses and napping on pillows of streaming wind. He remembers the years he spent exploring the underdark, ditching eyesight completely and relearning how to use his senses, and what it felt like to come to the surface and be overwhelmed by wind and loud life and _light._ The world's oceans housed him for quite a long while. There, he gained new appreciation for the circle of life and the detached acceptance of death one needed to survive there, even among the civilized merfolk. And he remembers his briefest stint, a mere several weeks spent in the arctic. Sure, a dragon's body can adapt to anything, but that doesn't mean he has to like _every_ environment. Lands of permanent ice and frost where your breath freezes before your eyes? Hard pass.

Those sure were the days. Save for encounters with various creatures and sometimes other dragons, he was alone, but his innate desire to push his limits kept him company until he found someone he could never be without. He almost misses the turmoil of typhoons and high winds and sandstorms. It's been ages since turbulent weather found him and it's only a matter of time until he has to join a storm for a dance—his favorite of all obligations—and until then, he's twiddling his claws, weather-wise. This calm life isn't so bad. It's hard to be bored when you have loved ones at your side. Delicate things in comparison to a dragon's hardiness.

Piers would hate to be dragged anywhere he couldn't survive. With as little padding that skinny body has, Piers would perish if taken anyplace too cold. He can live without sunlight, as evidenced by his shadowed, green homeland of magic and mist. Leon, however... Child of sunshine, he would definitely become listless and depressed if brought to a place without it. Taking both his treasures' preferences into account, the band of explorable climates severely narrows, but Raihan doesn't mind one bit. He'd rather they be comfortable, safe, and cared for over scratching his own itch for throwing himself into every storm he can.

Look at him, settling down this early in life. He knows one dragon who'd find great amusement in that. The old salamander would give him such a knowing look after learning he's taken yet another human under his wing.

But! Who cares what anyone thinks. All that matters is he's happy with his beloved ones, and they're happy with him.

They're happy with each other too, that's obviously just as important. What's funny is that they haven't formalized a relationship yet. They're so in love it's tangible—nothing Raihan feels with his hands, but in his chest, that warmth and lightness, like he only needs a hop to reach the sky. If Leon thinks he's being subtle, he's not. Guy's an open book, as humans say, and Raihan will read that love story all day long. It could make a bookworm out of him just like Piers is.

Compersion is a powerful thing.

That first day Lee stayed in their room and spent time with them all afternoon, into the night... The playfulness, the fun, wrapped around that nestled soul-deep between all of them. Leon made a knight's pledge, took Piers' hand and knelt, and even though his cape was a blanket that clashed with his hair and had a big silly knot holding it in place, the sight was so noble and the swear so earnest it took Raihan's breath away. Piers', too; he witnessed how affected his mate was by that pledge. Raihan was only collateral damage.

The direct damage came when Leon, bloody strongman he is, plucked him off the ground like he weighed as much as a hatchling. He'd never been held like that before. Fuck, the memory of being cradled off the ground by someone strong enough to support a monster as big as him _still_ makes his heart skip.

Before that moment, he'd always viewed the prince as someone _he_ shelters, not the other way around. Leon's still under his complete protection, that hasn't changed, but...

Well.

Raihan wouldn't mind being carried again, he'll leave it at that.

Anyways...

Leon's sense of duty and honor sure is something else. He was right to trust the man with Piers' well-being. The safest place in the world might be under a dragon's protection, but if need be, Leon could provide damn near the same, he's sure of it. A day might come where he needs to depend on Leon to protect what's important to them while he takes charge on eliminating what threatens them.

It might even be convenient to hook Leon into the territory's border. Allow him to sense intrusions just like Raihan can. The human is sharply sensitive to magic, so after suffering an initial migraine, he'd no doubt be just as good at detecting the vibrations and pulls and pushes of the border as its crafter.

...Nah. Second thought, not a good idea. He doesn't want Leon rushing ahead to handle intruders on his own when he's supposed to be dead to the world, and besides. Border linkage is typically a thing mates do.

_Sorry, Lee. You're precious to me, but there's only one person I'm fated to bond to._

Any day now... Surely it can't be much longer. He'll wait as long as needed, but instinct tells him it has to be soon. When the day comes that Piers says yes, should they attempt the ritual in private, or let Leon witness their bonding? Mm, that would be nice. Let Leon see just how deep their mutual trust and devotion runs. Leon wouldn't get jealous or anything, he's confident about that. Jealous of Raihan, that is, for bonding with Piers. There's no way Lee would get jealous of Piers for the same thing.

Raihan's fully aware that Leon is far more smitten with Piers than anyone else. He's cool with that. He's got his pride as a handsome dragon in his prime, but Piers is, irrefutably, the alluring one between them. Not to mention the human one between them. And the royal one between them. Those two have so much in common. No one can fault Leon for tumbling head over heels in the direction he did.

Sheesh, when he frames it like that, it almost sounds like he's the jealous one. He's not! Not at all. He's happy for his treasures and what they have together. It's not like he doesn't have his own special bond with Leon. They fit together in ways Piers can't hope to with either of them. So yeah, he isn't jealous.

...Okay, fine, he admits that he'd be a _little_ happier if Leon would express a similar willingness to be spoiled by him just like he wants to be spoiled by Piers. But he gets it. It's not like getting together is a race or anything. Let his humans connect their love for each other first, however long _that_ takes. Then he can see about making Leon his own.

Raihan's ears prick. Footsteps approaching, too weighty to be anyone other than the man occupying his thoughts. The dragon pushes himself up with a grin, staring down the slope of the hill with delight. Boredom and restless thoughts no longer!

"Hey, Lee!"

One lunge is all it takes to send him gliding down the hill. He swoops up with a single hard wingbeat and lands heavy on his feet, prize within arm's reach and gleefully snatched closer to be encircled by eager arms and wings. After so many nights of cuddling and bed-sharing, greeting Leon with anything less than unfettered affection feels too distant for their relationship. Friendship. Whatever. Titles and terms and categorizations aren't important as long as the feelings are there.

"How's my other favorite doing today?" He loosens the hug enough to inspect, then preen. So many flyaway hairs! Eyes are bright, that's a good sign. So beautiful, so precious.

Unfazed by the insistent touches beyond the barest reddening of his cheeks, Leon squares his shoulders.

"Raihan. There's something I need to ask of you."

"Yeah?" Ask _of,_ not just ask. Interesting, veeery interesting. Leon rarely asks for anything from either of them, what could it be that he wants, that he would come to Raihan specifically for? Surely something only he can provide. Already excited, Raihan fluffs the shorter hair at the sides of Leon's head. "What do you need from me, baby? Name it and it's yours."

"It's about Piers."

Ah. He shouldn't be surprised. As much as he would love for Leon to come to him for him alone, Piers does come first, like he always has.

"Is it now..."

Why does he feel a touch disappointed? He loves helping Leon with Piers.

But come to think of it, when was the last time he and Leon did anything together that didn't tie back to Piers in some day? Whenever they cuddle, Piers is right there in bed with them. The longest stretch of uninterrupted quality time they had was because Piers was in that depressive funk, and Leon was listless from it and needed to be made to feel better, so even those sessions of alone time were with the ghost of their missing third hovering over their shoulders.

Curious as he is about what Leon wants to ask... it can wait. Him and his sunbeam are long overdue for something special between them and them alone.

A new thought meanders its way from the back of his mind to the tip of his tongue. "Hey, Lee... remember how you're always saying you want to teach me some of your human combat techniques?"

He'll take surprise as an answer.

Raihan backs up another step and cracks his neck, then his knuckles. "You available right now for some lessons? I don't know about you, but I'm itching to spend some quality time together. You can ask me your question later, if you don't mind waiting."

The excitement that blossoms across the other warrior's face makes Raihan wish he asked for this sooner. There's a glint in Leon's eye that reminds him of when Piers figures out a new chess strategy against him, which is an odd comparison to make given that Leon's not much of a plotter, so he discards the thought right away.

"Yes! Of course! I thought you'd never ask, let's go somewhere flat!"

His arm is grabbed, his body pulled, and Raihan laughs as he takes the reins and steers Leon in the complete opposite direction of home.

\- - -

Bliss-born patience is the best kind of patience. He got Leon alone. Alone and most importantly, focused on him and nothing else.

Raihan stands with his hands loosely held behind his back, eyes open, ears open, as Leon paces a meandering circuit before him, animated as can be. Raihan stares without shame, admiring how the sun falls across every swell of muscle.

Leon's probably the second-most functionally-muscular human he's been able to get good looks at. The first being that insanely friendly farmer who lives on the very outskirts of the nearest human village. For such a short thing, he's broad as can be, and Raihan's idly wondered more than once how much force it would take to knock that freckled redhead over if the human was given the chance to brace himself first. But enough about that guy, Raihan's only got eyes for his Lee.

"Rhondeland has several schools of combat arts. Sword and shield, solo sword, solo shield—that one is fascinating, did you know that offensive shields are a thing? They're beautiful works of art, lots of smiths will display them all over their shop's walls, or even use them as storefront signs! There's plenty of decorative ones that aren't practical for war, but that's getting sidetracked! There's also assassination arts, cavalry, long-range warfare, I've been trained in everything. Give me a spear or bow and arrow and I can still fight with proficiency. The sword is my favorite, as you might have guessed, but I'm not defenseless with other things in my hand, or with nothing in my hands at all! So, what I've been dying to teach you is our—sorry, Rhondeland's—close-quarters, unarmed combat. I know you'll learn amazingly quickly, Raihan!"

This almost feels like a lecture, but he can't bring himself to care when his teacher is so delighted to impart. It also feels like stealing military secrets from a defector, which is an entertaining concept by itself. Rhondeland sure sounds like a militaristic nation.

"I know that in a serious battle, you'd never hold yourself back like you do when sparring me. But if we pretend that you're on the same physical level as a human, with no claws or tail or natural armor in the form of scales, suddenly you're lacking a lot in terms of technique and efficiency."

Raihan's had these thoughts before, but damn, it bears repeating. Coming from literally anyone else, words like that would raise Raihan's hackles. From Leon, who observes and critiques from a sincere desire to help you improve, there's no reason at all to get defensive.

"So!" Leon claps his hands together. "I'll show you some of Rhondeland's martial arts! I've never tutored anyone in anything before, but I'd like to think I'll do a good job for you! No, I _will_ do my best for you!"

Such enthusiasm! Raihan laughs and dramatically bows. "I'm ready for your instruction, _Sheknasiirn Leon_."

The sudden title throws Leon off, and he explains before the question can come. Been a while since he's called anyone that in particular. "It means _teacher_ in dragontongue."

"Oh!" Leon's face darkens. "I've never heard you speak it before, not that I can remember."

"Hardly a point when I'm the only one who knows it. That, and it feels strange to speak it to non-dragons. Since I respect your skills and you're teaching me something, it felt appropriate to use."

He'd use terms of endearment in his own language if they weren't so drawn-out and dramatic. He vastly prefers terms like _babe_ or _baby_ or _sweetheart._ Short, sweet, cute. He can't think of any romantic situation where he could drop the mouthful that translates literally to _the one and only who protects my heart._ Piers might love to hear him go " _Sek fusiirn ishan tenlum 's:ke anim,"_ but those kinds of dramatic utterances aren't his style. Not to mention the social headache that is the different intensities of possessive pronouns based on how much you actually own whatever thing you're talking about. Piers _is_ his, but not in the committed mateship way that would make it appropriate to use _'s:ke_ to refer to him, but _'s:chuu_ implies a level of transience that would offend him if anyone else used it to relate Piers to him. Ugh, anyways. In human tongues he can just say _mine_ and be done with it.

"I see! I'll do my best to live up to the title! Let's get started with the basics of stances. So, there are four main..."

Turns out that Leon really is an amazing teacher. His words are clear, his direction precise, and his explanations easy to follow. Raihan hardly notices how much he's already internalized until Leon leads a flow of one pose to another and he finds himself able to replicate it perfectly.

A good _sheknasiirn_ indeed. Almost too good. Raihan's having fun learning, and it's great to be the focus of Lee's attention, don't get him wrong, but the ease of it all makes it a bit... boring. It doesn't quite feel like they're getting any closer on a personal level, which is why he asked for these lessons in the first place.

On the next stance, something meant to provide a base for guarding from attacks from above (kind of unnecessary, in his opinion, since if anyone manages to attack him from above, they probably deserve to connect the hit), he pretends to be less observant.

He starts by nudging his knee out of place while Leon's back is turned, and bites back a smile when the discrepancy is noticed right away with furrowed brows. The urge to smirk vanishes when Leon corrects him not with words, but by grasping his thigh and pulling it to where it should be, hand broad and fingers firm. Before Leon lets go, he squeezes. Tactile approval of the correct leg position? If Raihan didn't have a clue about Leon's personality, then that would have felt like an appreciative grope of his thigh.

Raihan swallows when the hand slides away. Not lifts away. Slides.

"There you go! Perfect!" Leon grins up at him, radiating innocence and pride in his student.

"Uh, yeah, thanks..."

"You really are a quick learner. Let's move on from stances and try some moves! I'm excited to see how your wings and tail end up moving as you go through the motions. Now, first up, a basic guard strike. You can infer which stance this uses, right?"

He nods and slides his body into position without really thinking, and the lessons begin without any more shenanigan attempts from him.

As the sun pops out from behind a fluffy cloud, Raihan notes the new shine on Leon's skin. The slight stick of bangs to forehead. The pale shirt Leon's wearing has darkened with sweat, and clings to the curves of his chest with every demonstrated sweep of his arms.

"Did you get that?"

Fuck. He wasn't paying attention.

"Not quite. Show me again."

This time, he makes some effort to track and memorize what Leon's body does—in terms of technique, not the way his skin glistens or how smooth and steady every exaggeratedly slow strike is. Guy's got amazing balance and control.

Raihan spares enough brainpower to follow along. The majority of his mental energy is whirring with new plots, and it doesn't take long until he settles on one in particular. Oh, this'll be fun. Very, very fun. It relies on him doing well for the rest of this lesson, so until they call it quits, he'll act the perfect, proper student. And not get distracted by how fucking good Leon looks, especially when he suggests that Lee ditch the shirt to be more comfortable, and so that Raihan can better discern his moves, and his advice is gratefully taken.

He always was better at learning when a concrete prize awaits him. With all that in mind, he throws himself into absorbing every technique and moment of quality time Leon gives him.

\- - -

In a spectacular display of patience, Raihan waits until they've made their way to the river to clean off, as is traditional after working out together. It's been quite a while since they've done this. Last time was, what, before they all made up? Damn...

"That was way more strenuous than I expected, but you don't look tired at all, Rai!"

"Pfh, for me that was nothing. Dragons have got stamina over all else." He laces his fingers behind his head and strolls to the bank. Normally he'd be stripping by now. Not this time.

"I'll say! I don't think I've ever seen you exhausted. It's really impressive," Leon warmly says.

...Is it just him, or is Leon more forthcoming with compliments than usual, today?

"Look in a mirror if you want to see impressive."

Leon chuckles and steps up behind him, and a warm hand pats between the shoulderblades of his wings. "It's not like you to deflect praise, Raihan. I mean it, you're really incredible."

Okay. He needs to get the upper hand back quick, because he didn't come here to blush and be embarrassed over Lee's sincerity, as lovely as the attention is. He clears his throat, resets his expression to confident and sly, and turns to face his dear little sunflower. Time to enact his plan.

"Since I did such a good job, can I get a kiss for my efforts?"

Leon startles and stares. Just the reaction he wanted. Raihan merely smiles and taps himself on the cheek. "Right here."

A blatant callback to when Leon got his own first kiss. Right on the cheek. Now he gets to be the giver instead of the taker. Half of Raihan's enjoyment from this is watching Leon's face go on a journey of microexpressions whose final destination is, to his surprise, determination. He really needs to stop underestimating his Lee, that seems to be the theme for today.

"Alright. If you'll just lean down for me first."

By all means. Raihan tilts himself at the waist for the double convenience of getting on Leon's level _and_ inserting himself into his personal space.

A minute passes where all Leon does is stare. Raihan traces the tip of his tail along the pebbly bank behind him.

"You can take your time, but I am waiting."

"Sorry. I was thinking about how I've never kissed you before. Piers and I do it a lot, not on the lips of course, but with you... I wonder why we never have."

Leon must not count the near-hickey he almost got as a kiss, that's pretty funny. It does feel pretty good to have their relative lack of intimacy acknowledged.

"Why don't we change that right now?" To grant Leon some privacy, he closes his eyes and turns his cheek. "Lay one on me, baby."

Another minute passes, and at the end of it, warmth hovers over his skin. Light breath brushes across his cheek, marking a final hesitation, and with a last-second surge of confidence, Leon closes the gap and presses a kiss low on his cheek, and wow.

Wow...

Raihan swallows. Most of his body freezes save for his heartbeat, which makes up for the lack of motion elsewhere by raging into double time. Leon's lips are warm as sunlight on his face, and firmer than expected, probably because he's puckering harder than he needs to, which is outrageously cute. Best of all, it lasts. Leon didn't peck and dart away, he's lingering close, second after second, and Raihan's urge to turn his head and capture those lips in a real kiss strengthens with every powerful beat in his chest.

He was not expecting a simple thing like this to make him so happy.

"..." He draws back a minuscule distance, intending to look Leon in the eyes, but for some reason, he can't focus on anything but those full lips. As if sensing the gaze, Leon's tongue peeks out and swipes, then catches the corner in a cute little nibble. Irresistible. Dangerous. He's a touch away from dragging his second treasure close and kissing them both dizzy.

Leon has gone atrociously long without being kissed on the mouth. Piers took his sweet-ass time and is still taking his sweet-ass time, and at this point Raihan's ready to take some initiative himself. He's got to back off before it happens thoughtlessly. He doesn't want to steal; something as valuable as a first kiss must be willingly handed over.

"Hey, Lee..." he sidetracks, tearing his attention away from that delicious mouth. "What was that thing you wanted to ask me about? About Piers."

Whatever bubble was around them pops. Mercy be.

"Oh! Yes, right, that!" Leon whisks himself back a step and pats himself smartly on the cheeks. "Are you ready to hear me out?"

"Ready as I'll ever be. Fire away."

Leon straightens taller—impressive, considering how perfect his posture always is—and looks at him straight on. No shyness, no second-guessing whatever's lurking behind those lips that a moment ago were so sweet on his skin. Raihan stills down to his tail in response to the shift in energy.

"I'd like to ask for your permission to court him," Leon states, and wait, what? "I have... some rather serious feelings for Piers, and would like to make my intentions known. To both him and yourself." Creeping onto the serious set of Leon's face, slowly but surely, is a dark blush. Trooper that he is, he continues unfazed even as it invades a good percentage of the noble territory that is his face. "Those intentions being that I would like to be partnered with him. Since Piers is yours, I thought it necessary, and respectful to the relationship you two have, to ask you if I might be able to..." Leon's steadiness flags at last. "To also have him."

Raihan can only blink.

"It's not my intention to steal him from you, of course! He's very much yours! If you want to tell me no, that I don't have your blessing, or that you don't wish for me to lo—" Leon's voice cracks. "...Don't wish for me to love him at all, then I'll respect your decision."

_Ahh. I see..._

The possessive instincts deep within his core rear their heads with pride at the respect given to his claim on Piers. Raihan was there first, Raihan's the one who can say that priceless, precious treasure of Piers' partnership is his and his alone. The stronger, more vital part of him, warm and encompassing and buzzing through every vein and filling his head with heady delight, says this:

_Share!_

Leon's been hanging onto that speech for a while, he can discern that much. The whole time they were acting teacher and student, did Leon have this on the mind? Was he still thinking of Piers even when Raihan intended for the time to be all theirs and no one else's? No, he can't say that. Quickly thinking back, Leon was fully present, not a mote of attention reserved for anyone but Raihan. He gave Raihan his all.

Leon isn't dismissing him one bit.

A shiver runs down his spine straight through to the tip of his tail. It flicks and sends several small stones scattering into the water, the plunks and splashes of them muted and dull in his ears.

How was he jealous before? Leon's finally, finally making a move and _Piers will be so happy._ What's better is that Leon has plans to romance their (their!) loved one properly. A proper human courting, is that right? Sky above and sea below, that takes him back. He remembers his clumsy initial attempts at flirting in foreign ways, intended to impress the human he stole away and fell in love with, and how he messed up a fair number of times because humans are weird about the most random things. Piers found the fact that he researched human romance worth plenty of points by itself. Missteps and misunderstandings aside, they reached their destination of togetherness, and Raihan wouldn't change a single thing about that journey.

That doesn't stop him from getting excited over the prospect of Leon giving Piers the full treatment he deserves. Who cares that it's not necessary? Leon doesn't have anything to prove to anyone; what he thinks must be earned has already been given!

Raihan wants to launch into the sky, punch through some clouds and do a victory loop, but he keeps himself right here on the riverbank. At last, his humans are going to get together, sure as the sun rises and falls.

The ground before him crunches. "Raihan...?"

Fuck, he left Leon hanging there!

He snatches his sunbeam's hand and clutches it between them, steadfast. "Leon. Listen to me, and don't look away."

A wide-eyed nod, fronting neutrality with no cracks that might let Raihan peek at either hope or fear, whichever Leon feels most.

"I will never denounce the love you hold for anything or anyone. Piers is mine and I am Piers'. We love each other. If you want to be part of that, if you want to love him and be loved by him, you have my full support. Fuck, I've been waiting for this for so long, come here!"

He drags Leon into a crushing embrace. Several vertebrae pop beneath his arms and he squeezes what he thinks is a laugh of relief out of his best friend. He straightens up. Leon's feet leave the ground and with a joyous flap of a wing, Raihan spins them on his heel.

"You have no idea how happy you're going to make him!" He staggers to a stop and sets Leon down only to smother him. Lee's right, they don't kiss enough at all, that's changing right now. He rains tiny kisses all over Leon's laughter-scrunched face: forehead, cheekbones, the tip of his nose, and when that isn't enough he brings his teeth out and loves with his mouth, targeting ear and throat and—

"Raihan!" Leon gasps and giggles and reaches for his horns. "Rai, stop!"

"Don't wanna!" But he does anyways, and presses one final smooch to Leon's cheek before withdrawing. Somewhere throughout his attack, his hands wandered to grasp at Lee's waist, while Leon's are hung up high, holding his horns. They loosen and slide down to rest on the back of his neck, and they stare at each other, breathless and grinning.

"I was worried you might not say yes," Leon admits, eyes sparkling. "I'm so glad you did!"

"What?" He chuckles and tugs Lee closer. His tail arcs around, brushes the back of Leon's calves and completes a circle to bind them in the same space together. "I know better than to deprive you of what makes you happy. I care about you too much for that."

And he cares about Piers too much for that.

He brushes a thumb over Leon's cheek for no reason at all. On every level except physical, he's soaring. The anchor in his arms steps closer, and the hands around his neck slip free, slide lower, and halt before they can cross his collarbones. Still shy about touching his chest? Raihan chuckles and noses into Leon's bangs while calloused hands inch lower with all the caution of one picking their way down a steep rocky slope. Adorably, Leon gives up halfway through and loops his arms around Raihan's waist instead. He thinks he likes that even more.

"I've got lots of ideas already... For courting Piers," Leon confides. "I can't give him any riches or finery, but—"

"But you already know he won't mind?"

"Yeah," breezes against his chest. "Yeah, I do. And it's crazy to not be worried about it. About me not being good enough for him."

Careless of his volume, Raihan throws his head back and laughs to the sky. "Ohh, Lee, you've always been good enough. You don't even have to court him, you know that, right?"

Leon could barge into the tower, ask Piers to be his, and all he'd have to do is open his arms so Piers can throw himself into them. That exact fantasy is something Piers has detailed to him more than once. _What's takin' him so long,_ Piers had sighed. Well now he knows exactly what, and Piers won't have to wait much longer.

"I've thought about that already, but I want to do this right! I've never had a single person I've wanted to woo before. Now all of a sudden I've got tw—"

His ears prick. No way.

"What was that?" he asks, tail uncurling and lashing behind him.

"Nothing!"

"Aw, c'mon." He manages to tame his grin into a convincing pout, and strokes at Leon's lower back. "Finish your sentences. Now you've got t-...? Tw-?"

Two? Two people he wants to chase? Raihan doesn't want to let his hopes shoot _too_ high, but he knows a whopper of an admission when it's in front of his face. Leon squirms and bites his lip and Raihan finally takes pity on him.

"Alright, alright, I won't pry into your secrets. But I do have one last thing."

Leon's eyes fall closed along with a sigh of relief. "What is it."

"I want to kiss you."

Those eyes fly right back open. Pretty little golden pools, more valuable than any smelted metal. "Again?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

He keeps it simple and shrugs, still smiling like he won every prize the world has to offer. Almost every prize. "Because I want to. That's all."

Amidst all this excitement and happy news, how can he hold himself back from chasing what he wants? Leon is open and ready for love, he's proved that much already, so what's the harm in giving him some?

Victory is his when Leon turns his head to offer his cheek. Hm, close, but not quite what he wants...

With a gentle grasp on Leon's chin, Raihan guides him to face him straight-on, and leans down until it's clear that no forehead or nose will receive his lips. If Leon doesn't want this, it'll be easy for him to lean away, say no, or hesitate enough for Raihan to confirm that he doesn't want this. There's nothing in Leon's eyes that say he needs to back off. There's confusion, and more than a little nervousness, but no fear, no upset. The lack of fear isn't enough to count as consent, so Raihan nudges a little more.

"I think you know what I want to do..." he quietly says, and leans in a fraction, enough to tickle Leon's lips with his breath. "Can I?"

Within his touch, Leon's chin presses up in the frailest of nods. Poor thing, never been kissed like this before. No experience. That all changes today. Piers might be wanting and waiting for the perfect time to do this himself, but if Leon's ready and willing to give his first to Raihan, why would he not accept the honor? Dragons always take what they're given and enjoy it to the fullest, and this is a gift he intends on savoring, the memory something he'll hold dear until the end of his days.

Raihan closes the distance, closes his eyes, and gently kisses his treasure on the lips.

 _Soft..._ Leon's lips are fuller than Piers' and share their warmth so readily. Beyond that, they're timid, still. Must be teetering just this side of overwhelmed. A low sound of appreciation leaves him and he leans down farther, head tilting and lips parting that slightest bit more. The arms around his middle constrict with a strength that would distract anyone else, but not him.

Fuck, this is everything he wanted.

Raihan pushes his hand up into the thick hair behind Leon's head, stroking, petting, trying to help the guy loosen up so he can test how receptive Leon might be to tongue. Just a little bit of it. One lick, one taste, that's all he wants... Raihan sends a silent apology in the direction of home. Sorry, Piers, you waited too long.

It's on that thought that something hard brushes his thigh.

"Hm...?" Raihan breaks the kiss and tilts his head down to look, but a sharp gasp snaps it back up.

"I'm sorry!"

"What? What for?" He looks down anyways, and _ah._

He's released lightning-quick, and tan arms thrust down to block his view of the bulge pressing against Leon's pants.

"Oh goddess, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Flipping to high alert, Raihan stiffens the arm around Leon's middle before a retreat can happen. "Hey. Hey, it's no big deal. What are you running from?" He gently tugs Leon's hair, doing his best to search eyes that are actively dodging his gaze. This hurts to ask, but he has to know. "Not from me, are you?"

Leon squirms. "No! No, Rai, not at all!"

"Then what's got you so freaked out? You got hard from a little kiss, what's the big deal?"

A bitten lip and lowered head say a lot. Oh, boy... This isn't the first time Raihan's caught Leon getting worked up, but it is the first he's seen such distress over it.

"Do you feel bad that you liked it so much?" He tries to keep his voice conversational. Neutral. The last thing he wants is for Leon to feel ashamed of himself.

A guilty nod.

"Hey, it's okay that you liked it. I liked it too. Hell, I'm flattered you enjoyed my kiss that much. I consider myself to be pretty damn good. Expert, even. You can ask Piers, he'll tell you the same thing."

That does the trick. Leon's silence cracks with a groan. "But we're not... I shouldn't be reacting like this when we're not—"

"Not what? There are no _should_ or _shouldn'ts_ between us—any of us—that haven't already been established. I'm not uncomfortable, not one bit. You're allowed to be attracted to me, if that's what this is. And you can tell me if you are. I won't judge."

Leon's voice is small. Such a far cry from the confident clarity that befits him. "I am. Attracted. Not just to you. Piers, too..."

Just as he expected. Really, it's no surprise.

"And what's so bad about that? You can want us in that way, there's nothing wrong with that."

"But I... no, I guess you're right. I shouldn't argue with you when you're the one saying it's okay. I just... ugh, I'm sorry. I've never done anything like this. Getting hard over a kiss, that's so pathetic, I'm sorry to put you through my lack of control. I'll try not to let it happen again. I'm sorry."

"Don't be! I'm telling you, Lee, I really don't mind that you're into me. It's perfectly okay."

"But I... This wasn't..." Leon looks so torn-up and stressed that he might cry, and Raihan backpedals mentally. This is worse than he thought. Guilt is a hard thing to shake; simple reassurance won't cut it.

He didn't want to do this so early, but things have changed and this is an emergency. Leon's in the game now, entered the arena that Raihan and Piers have been standing together in for ages. He can no longer be content to stand back and let his loves clash first if twiddling his thumbs enables distress like this to happen. Inaction was never his style anyways. Raihan is a dragon of fearless initiative, and here he fucking goes.

He resets his touch. Both hands on Leon's shoulders, with a light shake to jostle him out of whatever self-flagellation is no doubt festering in his head. "Lee, listen to me. Look at me. I've got something important to tell you, okay? More important than everything else I just said."

"...What is it?"

He'll keep it simple for Leon's sake. He's got this.

Raihan allows himself the span of a single sigh to brace himself. "I want you."

"Whuh?"

Okay, not the best reaction, but that's fine.

"I want you," he repeats. "I was going to hold off until you sorted things with Piers, but I'm telling you now that I want you too. And I'll prove it, any way you want me to. I know this must seem out of nowhere, and I'm sorry for springing my desires on you, but I can't stand letting you stress about something that truly isn't a problem. I'm not upset that you're attracted to me because _I want you too._ And not just sexually. I want _all_ of you, your everything. So please, trust me when I say that you're allowed to want me too."

Come on, please let that have worked... This wasn't exactly how he wanted to confess his _will you be mine_ sentiments, but he couldn't think of anything better to help his best friend relax! If pulling Leon out of whatever hole he's in won't work, why not reveal that he's not alone in the hole at all?

Leon goes still in his arms. Furrows his brow. A little intake of breath, too soft to be a gasp, punctuates whatever revelation is happening inside that beautiful head.

"Dragon," Lee whispers. "Wanting me. Like... _oh._ "

Looks like the dots finally connected. Raihan refolds his wings and nods.

"Say the word, tell me what you need to see before you can accept my desire, and I'll do it. You want to court Piers? Well I want to court _you._ I know you love Piers—" Leon jolts. "—and I'll let him speak for himself on what he feels towards you. I won't get in the way of any of that. But have you ever thought about me, Leon?" His hand rests on the side of Lee's neck and brushes up, toying his claws into fluffy hair. "It makes me really happy to think you already might. If you haven't, then I want you to start."

Against all expectations, Leon has an answer for him right away.

"Raihan. You don't..." The words drop even quieter, almost on the meek side, as Leon ducks his head. His bangs hide his eyes but not the flush to his cheeks. "Have to. Don't have to earn anything, I mean..."

Raihan goes still. His tail falls, a sharp, limp rope on the grass while the significance of Leon's words creeps up on him like the tide vanishing into the sea, only to build and come roaring back with devastating impact. But _devastation_ implies _destruction,_ and there's no destruction here. Only sweet, sweet confirmation that he'd happily drown himself in, and the finishing blow comes when Leon lifts his head with conviction and more than a little hope.

"I accept your desire. I never thought—Fuck!" The laughed curse comes as a surprise. "I wasn't planning this at all! I thought I was going to be the one who approached you, not the other way around. You don't have to prove a thing to me, Rai, I swear this is what I want."

Raihan's face splits into a grin, every sharp tooth displayed in proud pleasure. There it is. Leon is willing to be his. Fuck, he thought he'd have to fight and flirt like hell to make Leon look at him the same way he looks at Piers, but just like Leon not having to prove anything to Piers, it looks like Raihan had nothing to prove to Leon, either. He is the luckiest dragon alive today! First learning that Leon has every intention to make Piers happy, and now this? Forget not having to prove anything, he refuses to be lazy about this.

"But what if I want to, sunbeam?" He bends down, puts himself close to Leon's ear, and purrs into it. "You see, us dragons love to demonstrate our worthiness and show off everything we're capable of. Anything to prove ourselves worthy of possessing our coveted one."

He doesn't miss how Leon shudders under the weight of _coveted one._

"I'd like to show off right now..." He nudges Leon's groin with the back of his hand, smirking at how the stiffness that ebbed comes swelling back from this one simple touch. "I told you I want you, Lee. In more ways than just this, but will you give yourself to me, in this small way?"

"I..." Leon falters.

"You can say no, but I need an answer. It can be a yes or a no or a _not now, later_ or whatever else works for you _._ Oh, treasure of mine, I can give you so much if you let me."

Leon moans, a tiny thing, and frisson sparks and rolls under Raihan's skin from head to toe, leaving him warm and restless, needing to hear more. Mindful of his claws, Raihan cups the growing length. No rubbing, no stroking or squeezing, merely holding it in a loose grasp, feeling its warmth and how it twitches against the fabric for more. Leon sucks in a breath, but doesn't move away.

"If you say yes, we'll take it slow. How does that sound, babe?" His next words flow viscous and slow over Leon's ear. "One little thing at a time... I'll walk you through it, we'll take care of this. There's nothing for you to worry about, baby. Promise you that."

Within the loose cage of his hand, Leon's cock pulses. Lee's body sure is willing, but that's indicative of nothing when it comes to wholeheartedly wanting it, especially since Leon is still a virgin. Not delicate by any means, but still burdened with the anxiety and disadvantage inherent to facing the unknown. He can almost hear over the rush of the river how hard the poor thing's heart is pounding.

...Maybe he should back off for now, give Leon some sp—

"Okay." Leon nods minutely enough it could pass as an errant tic of the head. Haltingly, he continues. "I trust you, Rai. Please..."

That sentence doesn't need to be finished for Raihan to understand. On the inside, he's singing—those sacred words that every dragon wants to hear, _strives_ to hear, _I trust you. I trust myself to you, I'm yours._ Trust, the most precious of all gifts to any dragon.

_Mine. Mine. Starting now, I'm making him mine._

Got to maintain composure. Getting worked up and excitable won't do his treasure any good while he's in such a vulnerable state. His first mission as the one Leon trusts to grant him his first pleasures: show him how good another person's touch can be. Oh, he's going to have _fun_ with this. Taking Leon's first experience all for himself...

"We'll do this nice and easy. No rush, okay?" The pads of his fingertips brush along the covered hardness. He can't wait to get these pants off. "Let's enjoy this. I plan on doing so, and I intend on helping you do the same."

"Okay..."

"Still nervous?"

"I don't see how I can not be," Leon returns, with a touch of grumble. Stress must be getting to him. Raihan will keep this opinion to himself, but Leon is cute when grouchy.

"I'm not making fun of you for it. Sex can be fun and carefree if you allow it to be." Leon flushes at the plain-spoken advice. "It doesn't have to always be intense and heavy. Piers and I do plenty of both. Right now, let's just have some fun."

He'll interpret that tiny sound as an "okay."

First step, get rid of the fear keeping Leon so stiff. There's nothing to worry about, not when Raihan has everything under control. He promised to take care of Leon and that promise extends beyond the physical.

He glances around. They're the only people out here, but it can't be comfortable to stand in the relative open during such a vulnerable moment.

Raihan guides them to the huge boulders jutting from the bank. There, that feels more private already. He easily corrals Leon against the near-vertical face of one, and unfolds his wings, lifts them, until they make a partial tent that not only hides them from the world but also blocks the weight of the sun. Nice and cosy. Leon relaxes now that he's sheltered.

"That better, baby? Just you and me."

"Yeah... yeah, thank you." Leon leans back against the stone and sighs. "And... thank you in general. For doing this. I've always felt terrible about," he fidgets, "lusting. After you. And Piers. I did my best to hide it, but..."

Raihan softens. "But you've got nothing that needs hiding." He takes Leon's hands and presses them against his sides. "Here, touch me. I'm not off-limits like you seem to think I am."

Leon uncurls his hands and holds his waist as if he were a hollow egg. Where's all that strength and confidence from before? Raihan presses those palms against his skin, encouraging more pressure.

"You know firsthand how sturdy I am. I'm not going to break or disappear if you grab me." He steps closer. "I know you want to act the perfect gentleman, but come on, we're all friends here. I'm surprised you lasted as long as you have without going crazy."

"Almost have," Lee mumbles.

When he takes the crutch of his touch away, Leon's hands remain on his waist, and when they tentatively squeeze, Raihan makes sure to hum. Positive reinforcement.

"That's it..." The grip tightens, and oh, _that's_ delicious. Leon's hands are calloused and rough and nothing like Piers' and he _loves_ them.

While Leon gets comfortable touching him, Raihan indulges in raking his gaze over the half-naked body before him. It's one thing to appreciate Leon's body purely for the visuals; it's another to look at him knowing he's free to touch whatever he wants. Hair, head, chest, those are all familiar to him by now, and there's so much more waiting to be mapped by his hands...

First, his eyes linger on the chest he loves playing with so much. The hair is dark and curled and he almost wishes they had a chance to get in the water first, so it could be slicked down, begging to be rubbed in new directions across the swells of tan muscled chest. Lower than that are the ridges of tight abdominals. Such a powerful core. Raihan's gaze travels down the abs one by one, like he's leisurely descending a staircase, until his attention is finally raking along the dark line of hair and settling on the bulge of a not entirely flaccid cock. While Leon's anxiety tamed it, it's certainly still interested in what's to come. Below that, thighs hard and muscular. The slight padding around them is downright salivary. He'd love to tear those pants off and sink his teeth into those thighs, hear Leon cry out and soothe the sore skin with healing licks. That'd be way too much for their first time, sadly. They've gotta take it nice and easy.

He hooks the thumb claws of his wings into the rock above him and leans closer. "Spread your legs a little... there you go," he praises, and slots his thigh against the shyly exposed groin. "Don't grind too much, okay? I wanna use my hands on you."

"Got it..."

"Good," he purrs. "Now, relax, and let me indulge you... Your only job is to not take your hands off me."

How many times has he dreamed of doing this... Having Leon beneath him, receptive to all he can offer...

His sunbeam gasps and clutches at his waist when a tongue glides up the side of his neck. "Tasty," he jokes, and slips back down for more. He laps a few more times over the same spot, slow, dragging, from the highest arch of his tongue all the way down to the forked tips that flick over the sensitive skin and make Lee gasp.

Against his thigh, Leon is throbbing hard already, and no doubt leaking a nice wet patch into the cloth. He pushes against the stiff length and Leon's hips register the reminder, and clumsily tilt. It takes a few experimental rolls of the hips to find something that works for him, and Raihan murmurs approval and goes back to having his own fun while Leon tests pleasure against his thigh.

Hm... Here's something he's wondered for ages.

Leon yipes. "Raihan!"

"Sorry, sorry, couldn't resist." He chuckles and soothes over the nipple he just pinched. "Your chest is just too beautiful. Love how it fills my hands..."

Dense with heat and muscle, Leon's chest is an absolute delight to grope. He'll never get tired of this. Such perfect handfuls, yielding in the best ways and moulding to his touch. The hair is soft between his fingers, and the small buds of Leon's nipples rub against his palms. Instead of another pinch, he rolls his thumb over one in small circles and listens keenly for how Leon's breathing hitches. So he does like that... Piers has a pretty sensitive chest himself, so Raihan's no stranger to playing with them. Leon's just got a much bigger playground, so to speak.

"Hey. Look at me."

_Oh, he's fucking gorgeous._

Leon's eyes are dazed, lips parted, skin flushed and rosy and entirely devourable and that's exactly what Raihan does. He dips down and digs his teeth—not enough to break skin, but enough to _bite_ —into the meat of Leon's shoulder. The taste is salty, but he doesn't mind. Leon's so full of vitality and life that Raihan could eat him alive and not harm him.

"Ah! R-Rai, that's..."

He pulls off and licks over the pinprick indents in apology. "Didn't like it?"

"No, I... think I did."

An interested hum vibrates against Leon's bitten skin. Good to know. "I'd love to mark you up, baby, but Piers would have a heart attack if you came back to him looking like you got mauled by some beast."

"You mean mauled by a dragon?"

"Hah!" He rewards the humor with a nip to the throat. "Exactly that, sunshine."

It's a relief that Leon's lost enough tension to joke. Fun and casual, that's what he wants this to be. Leon will walk away (or stagger away, if Raihan can make him come hard enough) happy and sated with only fond memories of the first time he shared intimacy with someone.

He continues his exploration, meandering from one round corner of Leon's body to the next. His ears are extremely sensitive, and nibbling the tip of one earned him such a violent squirm that he feared Leon scraped himself against the rock. Every inch of his neck is given close attention. Jaw, jugular, throat, collarbones, all lavished with tongue and teeth until he pinpoints exactly where to suck to make Leon's hips buck out of control. Each breath out of Leon is drawn with neediness, musical and sweet and more gratifying to drink than water on a drought-ravaged day. Just one word, that's all it'll take for Raihan's patience to shatter. If Leon says _more,_ then more is what he'll fucking get.

He'd love to taste Leon more than just this, use his tongue to coil around a needy cock, make him thrash in place and cry for more. And it goes without saying that one day, when he's confident it wouldn't overwhelm Leon to the point of passing out or something, he wants Leon bent over and ready to receive him. Piers could help Lee out with that, since Piers knows all the ropes. Hell, Piers is the one who taught _him_ plenty about sex. He's never looked at candles the same way again after one particularly educational night. Under his beloved's expert care, getting Leon and his gorgeous ass prepared would be, as humans say, a piece of cake.

For now, a simple handjob is plenty, but fuck if he doesn't want _more_ than that.

A low growl rolls out of him. Leon's body shivers and the erection heating his thigh twitches again. Enough waiting.

He pulls his thigh away and replaces it with his hand, stroking over the strained—and stained—fabric with the back of a claw. "You want me here? I'll please you just like this, but you've gotta ask for it, baby."

Leon moans and flattens himself against the rock face. Raihan crowds in closer, wing claws scraping and causing a few specks of sand to tumble down and bounce off Leon's shoulder.

"Well? Do you want it? I need to hear you speak."

"Please..."

"Please what?"

Leon shoots him a wounded look. "You know what! Please touch me, Rai, I— _ah..._ "

He smirks at how quickly that burst of indignance died out. He pulls his hand away and caresses a claw along the line of hair leading to his hidden prize.

"Take those pants off. Strip for me. Take your time, but the sooner you do, the sooner I can put my hands on you."

While the shy and hesitant motions of someone unused to hungry eyes on them might not be erotic to many, to Raihan, it's the sexiest thing his mind can conjure.

"There..." Leon kicks the pile of fabric out of the way, bravery showcased when he doesn't cover himself with his hands this time. They've seen each other nude plenty of times, after all. Only difference here is...

"Fuck, baby, you are beautiful."

Leon flushes down to his neck at the praise. Raihan would drop to his knees to get a better look at that proud cock up close if it wouldn't compromise this guarded space he's made.

He easily wraps his hand around the thick shaft standing for attention and smirks at the ragged sigh that leaves his partner. Good girth, nice subtle curve... Piers would love to have this inside him. Or in his mouth. Raihan wouldn't mind letting this fill him either, after he gets his chance to take Leon first. Would their sunflower be shy about topping, or would he step up to the challenge and lead with the confidence he always gains when made to be in charge? He'd love to find out someday soon.

As he said earlier. One little thing at a time.

\- - -

Leon's moans are muffled and broken around the tongue filling his mouth. Calloused hand clamp desperately around Raihan's shoulders, blunt fingernails scratching uselessly over scales. The air within their self-made alcove has grown heated and damp and heavy in the lungs, not that Raihan minds one bit.

His pretty little prince is lasting far longer than expected. He growls and pushes his tongue deeper, probing for the limit of what might make Leon gag, hand pumping from base to weeping tip of the heavy erection that fills his grasp so nicely.

They're getting close, he can sense it. Just a little more, and a little more, and he'll get what he wants. He pulls his tongue free from Leon's mouth, made messy from the length of their makeout, and lathes his tongue over his palm and fingers before returning his touch to Leon's needy cock.

"You're doing so good, baby. Fuck, look at you, can't believe you're fucking mine," he rasps. Leon cries out when he speeds his hand, the wetness of each stroke tickling their ears and filling the small space. "Bet you'll look so beautiful when you come. No one else has done this for you, I'm so happy you're giving this all to me."

Leon can only answer with a garbled moan. Poor thing probably can't even hear what he's saying. Good thing he doesn't need to say a word. And since that mouth isn't occupied...

Raihan nuzzles against Leon's burning cheek, and with a languid meander, snakes his tongue back into a panting mouth. Leon whines and accepts it with a submission that has Raihan wanting to purr, _especially_ when Lee gives him a shy little suck, asking for more. Turns out his prince loves to be kissed deep like this, and Raihan is nothing but happy to oblige. A dragon's tongue has many uses; playing with a lover's mouth is only one of them.

Almost there...

True to his instinct, not a minute later, Leon starts to buck and writhe, hands pressing against his chest in desperation. Raihan retracts his tongue and Leon sucks in a deep gasp.

"Rai—I'm! Sh-Shit, fuck, _Raihan,_ Raihan!"

His heart swells with fondness. He could listen to that all goddamn day but he has a job to do.

"That's it, I know you wanna come for me, baby, you're doing so good," he croons. "Give yourself to me, Lee, I'm here to take care of you. You're perfect, so perfect, all for me..."

With a sharp cry that almost hurts his ears, Leon's whole body tightens up. His hands curl and scratch against Raihan's chest, eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted, and then—release. Opaque whiteness spatters against his stomach and rolls down his abs, quickly caught before it can reach the hem of his pants. Gods, that was rapturous.

Raihan slows his hand at last, easing Leon down from his tumultuous orgasm and praising him all the while even if his words fall on deaf ears.

After that, silence, to allow the wrung-out prince to catch his breath. Raihan unhooks his claws from the stone and carefully steps back, wings held high to still block the sun while allowing fresh air to whisk into the space.

...Yeah, Leon's going to need a moment. It was just a handjob, but to Leon's merit, he's never been touched by anyone before, and Raihan is someone he harbors feelings for, which made it all the more intense.

He inspects his cum-coated hand.

"You lasted a lot longer than I thought you would."

A groan. "I had a wank this morning," Leon exhaustedly confesses. "I have a wank lots of mornings, actually."

Raihan dabs some white from his palm and brings it up for a taste. "And here I was, hoping all the times I left you and Piers alone in bed that something might happen. You're too chivalrous for your own good. But that just means more fun for me."

Leon scurrying away meant that Piers was always left pouting and lonely in bed by the time Raihan returned from his faux excursions, and what _that_ means is he gets to provide consolation kisses and give his mate everything he craves.

"Can I help you, too?"

He snaps out of his musings. "Hm?"

Leon reaches for him, and ohh, fuck, he didn't realize he got so hard. He was so focused on caring for his partner that his own needs didn't even register. Watching Leon come was just that enchanting. "You don't have to. That was a lot for you already, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but..."

"That's what I thought. Don't worry about me."

The crestfallen expression crossing Leon's face snaps him into more common sense. "It's not that I don't want you, baby. I do. I'm just a lot, you know?" In more ways than one. "I've got good self-control over my own libido, I'll be fine without getting off here. Helping you was plenty satisfying in itself, trust me."

He catches Leon's unsure mouth in a kiss. Something far more chaste than what they shared before. He'll never get tired of this, just like he never gets tired of kissing Piers.

Oh, fuck. Piers. Writing away in the tower, none the wiser as to what just went down elsewhere in the territory.

Leon seems to read his mind. "Should we tell Piers what we did?" He staggers towards the river, clearly intending to rinse himself clean after everything.

Raihan ditches his own loose clothes and follows right after him. The cool water is bliss; throughout that entire experience, the sun beat down on his back and wings, and while he's used to taking heat, if a river can offer respite he sure as hell will take it. Another help it gives is helping his boner die down. Raihan dips his hand into the current and lets it tug away the evidence of Leon's pleasure.

"Specifically about what we just did? ...Sure, if you want. I know he won't mind either way that I helped get you off. I bet he'll be happy for you."

Leon reads his mind once again. "What about, uh... Sorry, but what exactly are we?"

"Us?" He blinks. Leon's sunk himself neck-deep in the water, peering at him with his hair streaming along in twirling ribbons beneath the surface. "Well, you're mine now, aren't you?"

Leon sinks lower. "Is that it...?"

What does he mean, _it?_ Shouldn't that be enough? Wait, he remembers that Piers had a similar fuss back when they first got together, insisting on some shared, mutual title that went beyond just _mine._ They had settled on 'partner,' and maybe Leon wants something similar.

Raihan tilts his head. "Would you rather call it something else?"

"Not if I get to call you mine, too."

Whoa. Before Raihan can hope to parse Leon's thought process, a smirk curls across his face and his mouth moves on its own. "Asking a dragon to give themselves to you, you're bold. But that's why I like you so much. So, tell you what." He wades closer and lowers to his knees in the water so that they're more or less face to face. "If you court my mate properly, just like you plan on doing, and get to the point where you can lay as much claim to him as I can... then you'll earn yourself a dragon, too."

He presses a fist against Leon's shoulder and gently pushes. "Think you can handle that?"

The fire of challenge and steely spark of determination, so familiar of a sight by now, flares in Leon's eyes and sends the gold glimmering.

"That's what I thought. Now... you better wash your face, you got sweaty all over! You think you can go see Piers reeking of sex?" He tackles Leon into deeper water and cackles at the defiant shout that explodes into nothing but bubbles.

His mirth only doubles when Leon surges from the water, grabs him by the horns, and drags him down to be vengefully dunked.

* * *

It's not wingbeats that take Piers' eyes off his writing. It's the squawk, the shouted _wait!_ , and cursing so colorful it could rival his own, building exponentially in volume and rapidly approaching the tower.

Piers shoves away from the desk and flattens his back against the wall just in time for a blaze of orange to hurtle through the window. Every paper on the desk scatters and flies in the dragged-in wind, and Piers goes half-blind from his hair tossing about. The gust snatches the quill out of its inkwell with a spatter of black.

They land on the bed. Or rather, Raihan twists midair to plant his legs against the wall nearest the bed. The stone absorbs all momentum and grants the dragon the safety to drop onto the mattress, Leon wrapped safely in his arms.

"Fuuuck, sorry babe, I forgot that you're not good with magic."

"It's fine!" Leon sounds exhilarated. "Thanks for protecting me from it."

"Hey, just doing my job."

So that's why they came through like that, so Leon wouldn't pass directly through the invisible web of magic covering the window.

"You two seem in awfully good moods..." He peels off the wall and picks his way over to them, mindful of the papers scattered about. One of these is the one he was writing on, and those two had better thank the sleeping gods that the ink had already dried, lest he chew them out for ruining his hard work with their carelessness. Raihan knew full well what he was doing up here and still chose to come barreling in.

Leon's hair is wet, and so is Raihan's. The two trade smiles, equally goofy, but Raihan's is a bit more lascivious. And smug, like he's done something worth being prideful over (not that it takes much, for him). What were they doing? Simple sparring? No, Raihan wouldn't be giving Leon _that look_ if all they did was spar. It's a rather familiar look... One that Piers has been on the receiving end of countless times. So strange to see it aimed at someone else.

...Don't tell him. Oh, he is going to have _words_ with Raihan after this.

Sensing the suspicion burning into his skin, Raihan clears his throat and clambers off the bed. "I'll catch you two later! Love you, babe! Sorry about the mess, Lee can help you clean it up, bye!"

After a peck on the lips so fast he hardly processed it, Raihan leaps out the window and is gone, the only remnant a few fluttering papers shifting across the floor.

That was a guilty an escape as he's ever seen.

On the bed, Lee sits cross-legged, hair dark and stringy, staring like he's in the middle of some pleasant dream and Piers is the star of it. Yeah, there's no doubt in his mind that somewhere out there, his dragon gave Leon a little treat. That's the face of someone who was recently given an orgasm. Quite a good one, too, by the looks of it. He'd expect no less from his lover.

"Ya done starin'?"

Leon scrambles off the bed. His legs seem to work just fine, no soreness or aching there, which rules out the one thing Piers would have scolded his dragon for the most. More relaxed, Piers bends down and starts picking papers off the floor.

"I'll help you!"

"Thanks, love."

There's a half-dozen questions he could ask as they gather what was scattered. He's dying to know what happened, and more importantly, what developed, but for some reason he holds his tongue. Those two are allowed to have private moments of their own. Anything important, Rai is sure to tell him later.

Of all the surprises he could be hit with, this is far from the worst.

"Were you writing something?" Leon asks, stacking a few papers together. All blank, not what he's looking for.

"Aye. Letter to Marnie."

Leon perks up like a puppy and gathers the papers with even more care.

"Your sister! How exciting! Does she ever write you back?"

"Sadly, no," he sighs. "'S all one-way correspondence. I write to her and trust that she gets my letters. Rai and I move around too much for any courier to hope to deliver anythin' to me, see. The one time we stayed in one place long enough to get a letter back, it nearly spelled the doom of us."

Those sure were the days.

"But you've lived here a while, right?" Leon passes him what he's gathered and hops up to hunt for the few that flew farther. "If you—we—stay here for a while, wouldn't it be possible for her to send something back? How long does it take a letter to reach Àitesambith anyways?"

"No idea. You do raise a good point in that we've basically made this a lastin' home, but... no." He shakes his head. "As happy as the prospect makes me, I dinnae wanna risk it."

Leon's right, though. They really have been here a while. This place was meant to only be a safe place to hunker down for the winter, yet here they are. Spring has passed them by...

Could they make this a real home? No, that's nonsense. Surely Raihan's wanderlust will take them all out of here someday. Still... he's rather fond of the idea of staying long-term.

Ah, there it is! Piers lifts the paper with a delicate hand, and skims it from top to bottom to make sure nothing got smudged.

_Dear M,_

_Been a while since last. Still safe, still happy, still missing you._

_Apologies for how long it's been since my last letter, I've been busier than you'd believe. I'm so glad winter's long over, and the melting snow has brought more new things than expected._

_R and I have met someone new. Obviously I can't tell you his name or any details, but one thing you should know is that I can call him a friend. R's taken to him very quickly. It's cute seeing how excited he is to have a new playmate. L's much better suited to certain kinds of activities than I, and he's proved it multiple times over, much to R's delight. He's good for me, too. Nothing against R, but L's gentler, studious attitude is very refreshing at times. There were a few hiccups in getting to know each other, one of which prevented me from finishing this letter the same day I started (I'm writing these words quite a while after I first put quill to paper), but we managed to settle them just fine, and have come out far stronger for it._

_L is a true sweetheart. I care about him deeply... he fills holes in my life I didn't know needed to be filled, and I know R could say the same. I could fill this page with poetry and kind words about the man. In fact, in previous drafts I did just that, but I realized that lots of the information was too telling, so here I am on this final draft, cutting all that out. You've been spared my sentimental nonsense (and I know you'd skip over it all anyways). I'm just glad to have the opportunity to get to know him. I'm eternally grateful that our paths were allowed to cross._

_To make up for how long it took to get this letter out, I've pressed a flower and included it in the envelope. Don't worry, it's one common enough that it's impossible to deduce where it came from, but I know nowhere doesn't have them. They're much prettier alive, of course, so you'll have to use your imagination for that._

_Much love,_

_P_

All seems to be in order... He'd have been rightly pissed if he had to rewrite this thing from scratch yet again, without even a revision of wording to justify it. This right here is what'll reach Marnie's hands. Gods, she must be so big by now...

Leon's voice breaks through his thoughts.

"I've always wondered how you get letters out of here. The nearest village is pretty far from any city, isn't it? Raihan doesn't leave you alone and sneak out to deliver them, does he?"

"Oh—no, none a' that. You know how sometimes Rai heads out o' the territory cartin' stuff with him? And brings shite back? That's him visitin' the one person outside that we can trust to trade things. This place came stocked with plenty, but couldn'a lasted us long-term. The bloke gives us things we need, even hunts down some extras like new books for me, and in return we give him things from the land here. Wild game, herbs, and the like."

What was his name again...? It's so much harder to remember people's names when you've never met face to face. Raihan's very particular about not letting anyone see him. He understands why, but from what he conjectures, the man is kind, and Piers would to thank him in person someday for everything he's done for him and Rai. And Leon, too.

"He sounds like a kind person."

"I agree with ya. Never met him myself, but I've always pictured him to be very friendly. He's kind enough to pass my letters along, at the least."

Piers always got the sense the man was lonely, too. Part of why Raihan chose that farmer in particular was because he lives alone, far from the village proper, and is one of the few to not fear the dragon. A lack of fear of scary things usually comes from two sources: knowledge, which brings security, or loneliness, which welcomes even the unknown if the unknown will tip its hat their way. Who's to say which of the two it is for that stranger?

He returns to his desk and lays the papers down with his letter down on top. It's high quality stuff that he's writing on, courtesy of this place's previous resident. Smooth, evenly colored, doesn't tear easily. All that's left is to wrap and seal it, along with the wildflower resting pressed in a nearby book, with the wax that he swore was around here somewhere...

Leon returns to him and sets his little paper harvest down atop the desk. As fussed as Piers was earlier, he really is happy to see Leon and have him nearby. He tips his head back enough to treat himself to the view of the underside of Leon's chin. Always so handsome, no matter the angle.

"You have lovely handwriting."

The compliment rests heavy on him, but he doesn't push it away. He lets it settle. "Thanks..."

Leon kneels on the floor right next to him, eyes on the letter with a strange longing fogging how present he feels at Piers' side. "I realize this is forward of me," he slowly says, "but do you think that I could... maybe send something to Marnie, too? Just a quick hello. And maybe a note about how her big brother is doing."

Piers' heart unravels a fair bit. Oh, _leannan,_ wanting a sibling of his own... How can he say no? Leon might be playing this as something Piers can refuse, but he'd be heartless to deny this.

"O'course ya can." He rests a hand atop Leon's damp head. "I've already told her about you in my letter, she'd love to get a few words from ya. Here, have this."

He grabs a paper off the stack and reaches for a quill that isn't there. Oh, bloody—where did that thing fly off to...

"Here!"

Leon found it? No, he had it in his hand this whole time. Perfect.

"No, you keep it." He caps the inkwell and slides it Leon's way. "You write her whatever you need, but you need to be careful what you put down. No names, no locations, nothin' that might hint at either of our identities, go' it? You can refer to me as jus' _P,_ that's what I sign as. Raihan's _R_ and you're _L._ Nothin' revealin', remember."

"Got it! I'll be careful, promise."

"Good... wouldn' want anyone interceptin' that and figurin' anythin' out. Chances of that happenin' are real low, but... ya never know. Just in case, I'll read whatever ya write, if ya don't mind my paranoia."

He doesn't think he has to tell Leon not to write his little sister anything inappropriate, like battle stories or monster slayings. Man's got better sense than Raihan when it comes to those things.

Leon accepts both paper and glass bottle with utmost seriousness. "I understand. Thank you for letting me do this. It means a lot to me to be able to say hello to your family."

He smiles and tucks a damp lock behind Leon's ear. This really needs to be brushed before it dries tangled. Flight does horrible things to one's hair; he's shocked Raihan was able to flee the tower while leaving Leon in this state, with how particular the dragon is about preening those he cares for.

"Anythin' for you, _leannan._ She'll be so excited to hear from ya. Once you're done I'll tell Rai to pass our letter along to..."

That was his name!

"Along to Milo when it's time for another visit. One's comin' soon, but no rush. If it takes months for it to make its way home, another couple weeks ain't gonna make a difference."

"No, I want to get it done quickly! When's the next visit?"

"In about... oh, three days." Yeah, that's right.

"Exactly three? As in, on the third day from now, Raihan will be gone all morning?"

Piers nods, and the spark in Leon's eye lights an excited little fire within him. He recognizes a plot when he sees one, and won't corner Leon by asking outright. All he knows is that it has nothing to do with the letter.

"Looks like someone's lookin' forward to Rai bein' gone." A nice, mild accusation. "This ain't any different from the last times he's done it, so I cannae help but wonder..."

Leon jumps to his feet and bounces on the balls of them with a grin. Piers keeps his eyes from lowering to what's surely a lovely physics demonstration around Leon's chest region. "You'll see! It's a surprise for you!"

"For me, you say..." He chuckles and pushes away from the heavy desk. "In that case, I'm lookin' forward to it. But since we ain't three days out yet, put all that down and come sit with me on the bed. Your hair's a right mess and I'll get you sorted."

He doesn't miss how happy Leon is to drop everything and come spend time with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, our poor virgin knight is blue-balled no longer. -waves pennant- Huzzah!
> 
> Sorry y'all had to wait a while for an update to this! I was swept up working on my other kbnz fic, HeartBeatDrop (a 'real life' setting DJ!Raihan AU), which is 7/8ths complete, and I've also posted a kbnz demon/exorcist oneshot! Consider checking either of those out if you like my content B)
> 
> Next chapter: A decision is voiced.


	11. Looking Back, Looking Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't exist in my outline! It spawned into existence by itself and I'm so glad it did.

"Alright, love. Time to explain yourself."

"What's there to explain?" Around him, a large wing unfurls, minutely flares, and refurls, a dead peacocking giveaway that Raihan is quite pleased with himself over something he doesn't have to explain, but will regardless if sufficiently pushed.

Piers hums and leans against his lover's side, comfortable on the smooth stone. The late evening air is balmy, lilac hues of twilight spreading across the sky and casting attractive tints over Raihan's shining scales. The two of them are alone up here. Leon retired as soon as supper was over, claiming exhaustion from a uniquely tiring day, and the moment he slipped into his own room—not the tower, but his personal space, whose bed hasn't seen him in a long while—Piers silently issued to his partner that _we are talking outside, right now._ For safety's sake, they flew far from home in the off chance that either unintentionally raises their voice enough to be heard by those they wish to keep quiet from.

That brought them here, to the tallest point in the territory, staring out over the black forest as it stretches beyond the magic-spun border, beyond Raihan's jurisdiction, and blurs into the horizon, still warmly tinted from the vestiges of the setting sun.

Beautiful sight. If they weren't here to talk, Piers would want to simply sit, and lean, and look at the sky and ponder life and appreciate how lucky he is.

The stone is warm beneath their legs from absorbing the summer sunset, but not as warm as the body at Piers' side, or the arm around his waist. He swears this magical lizard's body temperature rises whenever he's smug, and right now his dragon is a beacon of heat. Piers' personal bonfire, one that'll never burn him.

"How about you start by tellin' me what ya did to Lee earlier today?" he phrases as innocently as possible.

"You mean the training we did together?" Raihan adopts the same innocent tone. "Where he showed me some human martial arts and lectured me about his old country's war techniques?"

Interesting, but not the meat of what he wants to hear. He knows those two got up to something remarkable.

"Doubt a bout of throwin' each other around would be enough to wear Lee out like tha'." He subtly slides his hand over Raihan's thigh. Incentive. "You two came back all wet. What that says t'me is that whatever you two did, it was after sparrin'. Somethin' ya had to wash away the evidence of, perhaps."

Around his waist, Raihan's arm tightens, pulls him closer. He's happy to cuddle up. With every minute that passes, the air gets greedier, plucking at their bodies for any warmth it can steal. Too bad for the cold, Piers knows his dragon will block and guard against it, keeping the chill at bay with heat-trapping wings and a furnace of a body. The wind can barely pry into this spot, chosen to provide the best view of the sunset as well as be quiet and sheltered. If not for the roof of their large alcove blocking a direct upward view, the stars would be already visible. Instead, they have to wait.

He can sense his partner's mulling without needing to see his face. Choosing what to say? That alone tells Piers that whatever his lads went through was more than a simple sexual encounter. There's layers to this.

Layers of what, though... He has his hunches. Some are too good to be true, and clang to be picked up and spun into real hypotheses he can stake hope in. Piers keeps his heel on their lid. What-ifs don't matter with an eyewitness here to tell the truth.

The final dregs of daylight have seeped beneath the horizon when Raihan finally speaks. "I assume you're not upset about what happened."

"Far from. Was surprised at first, but after thinkin' about it a wee bit, I realized I was nothin' but happy for ya."

Happy indeed, that his lads could have such fun together. He always knew Leon viewed Raihan in no way but favorable to the utmost, and finds the dragon just as handsome as Piers does, and just as much of an infuriating tease when he wants to be, too. Although, the 'infuriating' part doesn't seem applicable to place upon Leon's perspective. He doesn't think he's ever seen Lee express that emotion towards anyone. More like the poor bloke is helpless, rather than frustrated, against their teasing.

The fact that Rai and Lee enjoyed something together, just the two of them, is nothing but delightful. Piers' only regret is that he wasn't there to see it.

"But that don't mean I willnae ask fer more details," he melodically prods. "Preferably on any important emotional developments?"

Raihan sighs a faux-weary sigh. "And here I was ready to regale you with a rigorous play-by-play of the sex."

"That can come after! Come on, Rai, stop teasin'. Ya know I won't beg fer it."

His lover laughs. "I know, I know. Where to start, though... Today was _such_ a whirlwind after all..."

"As if you can't fly steady through those, I've seen ya do it. Give me the most important bits up front. I'm dyin' to know," he says with every effort to not whine.

The arm around his waist tightens in a loving squeeze.

"If you say so. Let's see, what happened again? Ah yes! Leon... Our Lee, our dear, precious sunbeam, Leon..." Raihan pauses for dramatic effect. He knows exactly how long to let a lull linger before he's told to _get on with it already._ Piers' lips have barely parted in impatience before the hanging silence is dropped. "...is mine now. And I mean _mine_ mine."

Piers' jaw hangs open with no words to topple out. No bloody way.

Pride radiates from every square inch of Raihan's form, countering the baffled silence.

"He gave himself to me, Piers. Accepted my desire for his everything and made himself _mine._ " A growl ruptures the last word, thick with satisfaction and betraying that unique level of intense possessiveness dragons are renowned for.

As respectful as dragons are of boundaries and will, the moment any entity overlaps into their clutches, that privilege of ownership, of trust earned and given, is something they will get drunk on. Piers has seen it firsthand, and not sparsely. He remembers clear as glass the moment he struck down all reservations and embraced the unknown, reached out to the monster coiled around his lonely spire like a vine around its trellis and asked to be taken away. That giant eye in the window dilated from its slit and the whole tower rasped within a long, tightening body.

He remembers when he became Raihan's on a level far beyond 'weak human to protect.' The fulfillment flashing through those sky-blue eyes like a comet, as if Piers had given him a gift that strengthened his very soul.

And now he's seeing a reflection of it within Raihan's fresh reminiscence. Leon accepted the dragon's craving, whether he understood the implications—and consequences—of it or not. If he doesn't, Piers will be sure to teach him. They're on the same ground now, and Piers is the one with the experience, the knowledge about how this works. He's also the one Raihan's set his sights on for mateship, but since mateship won't be happening, he and Leon truly are companions within Raihan's hoard.

Those two really leapt that far ahead in just one afternoon. Their vast progress would be a bigger shock if he were somehow blind to how Rai and Leon have been bonding since day one. Raihan might have been content to stand back and allow him the opportunity to get close first, but that doesn't mean Rai was twiddling his thumbs on fostering a deep bond with Leon as well. Now he's the proud owner of two princely runaways he wouldn't trade the world for, who he'd rather raze civilizations to rubble to protect than let anyone steal them away.

Quite romantic.

"Yours at last," he muses. "Must feel pretty good about yourself, then."

Raihan closes his wing further around him. "I sure do. Never thought I'd be privileged enough to have two exceptional people trust me with their everything."

The warm reverence in Raihan's tone pulls a smile to his face.

"Believe me, we're the ones who are honored. Such a noble creature, takin' the time to care for us 'n protect us so well." The praise rouses a low, pleased rumble. "Lee and I are the real lucky lot."

"Flattering me?" Raihan turns and so does Piers, and with mutual leans their noses touch and rub affectionately. "Didn't think I could be any happier about this, but here you are, showing me otherwise."

"You hardly need flattery to feel good about yourself, love. This is just a special occasion." He sits up for that extra valuable inch needed to peck Raihan on the lips. "You make it mutual?"

"Nah..." Raihan leans down to make kissing easier, and they share another, chaste. "Much as I like him, he hasn't proved himself enough yet. A dragon becoming another's is a big—"

"A really big deal, I know," he chuckles. "You've told me plenty about it already. Made sure I knew how lucky 'n special 'n worthy I was to have the great an' powerful Raihan trust me with his whole being."

That happening to one human is enough to mark the annals of several histories. It happening twice, from the same beast? Freak anomalies of nature, all three of them. What fun. Piers smiles and relaxes against his partner, who clicks his tongue at being denied further kisses, and they both turn their gazes to the sky. Wispy clouds stained with lingering color block the base of the horizon. Above that, the view is clear, and speckled with shy stars.

Colorful things. Imaginary pictures, overlapped across different cultures' imaginations and myths.

So many varied meanings given to these little indifferent points of light.

"Be honest with me." Piers adjusts himself, sliding an arm over Raihan's bare chest and holding his opposite shoulder in a half-hug. "Did ya ask 'im to be yours 'cos you love him? Just like you did with me?"

"..."

"...Hullo?"

The chuckle that stumbles out of Raihan screams a suspicious _I don't know what you're talking about._ Piers rolls his eyes off the stars and jostles his partner's unyielding shoulder.

"Rai, it's a simple yes or no, out with it."

"Out with what? It's really straightforward, babe, I'm a dragon. I see, I covet, I prove myself, I obtain, and then and only then am I satisfied."

"And I'm a blind ballerina with crimson hair who performs for the Queen every mornin' while she sips her honeyed tea. You love him, don't you? No shame in admittin' it."

He knows he's cornered Raihan when a low groan, deep and creaky as an ancient door hinge, rattles against his side.

"I feel what I feel! Why do humans need to be so specific about naming every emotion. It's so limiting."

"Because us humans value emotional clarity and never get tired of expressin' ourselves. Love ain't somethin' you're a stranger to acknowledgin', Rai." He sits straighter against his beloved's side, peering up at his flustered face. "You're the only one who can state it for certain, so give it some thought. For me?"

Contemplative silence is the best answer he can receive. Piers is in no rush, given that they keep going in the right direction.

Raihan's usually so up-front with stating his feelings. He's a dragon with nothing to hide, a trait Piers adores. He's no stranger to navigating the hidden meanings and branching corridors of implication that fit neatly between unspoken words, but not having to exercise that skill around his dear ones is a weight off his mind. Doesn't stop him from overthinking where he can.

For Raihan to be so taciturn implies that he hasn't thought about this in detail before, which is honestly just like him to do. Draconic logic is so straightforward sometimes. Anything Raihan sees as not an issue is dismissed on the spot with no further thought. Gods below, that's adorable in this context, isn't it? Raihan viewing his emotional developments as unproblematic, not worth any worry, and therefore not something he needs to spend energy on acknowledging beyond a basic tip of the hat.

"You're right," Raihan murmurs at last. "We could call it love."

"Could?"

Another pause.

"Yes. It's different from what I know to be love, with you." Raihan lifts a hand and stares into his palm. His fingers close, and clench around whatever invisible thing he was gazing into. "I can't explain it. What I have with you is precious beyond words, and there's value in what Lee and I have, too, but it's different."

"Aye, makes sense. Lee and I are very different people."

"So different. So alike, but so different..." The arm around his waist lifts, and a large hand rests atop his head. Piers leans into it, happy for the touch. "Yeah, I... I think these different feelings of mine are still love."

Piers doesn't hide his grin. He reaches up and pulls the hand off his head so he can hold it. Hard scales cover the back, with the palm and undersides of the fingers being soft, yielding skin. They dwarf his own hands. Piers presses them together palm to palm.

"Tha's how it is with me, you know. You two are similar, with scores of differences too, and I love you both for both."

Raihan turns his wrist. Just like that, their fingers are laced together.

"Pretty proud of myself for not getting jealous over what Leon has that I don't."

Piers chuckles. "I could say the same. He's far more impressive than me in so many ways." Stronger, more robust, with a healthy tan and drool-worthy silhouette, to name a few points. "Definitely the better catch at first glance, if ya put us side by side."

He meant that casually, as a joke, but Raihan growls and pulls him so close that Piers has no choice but to be dragged into a hard lap. A strong chin rests atop his head and two arms hard as iron bars lock around his middle.

"Don't jest," rumbles low all around him. "I don't like hearing anyone dismiss my treasures, and you're no exception from that."

Embarrassed regret hauls heat to his face. Should have known better than to self-depreciate.

Piers curls up smaller. Raihan doesn't allow any gaps, and tightens his arms and hunches further to keep him protected from an intangible enemy.

"Sorry, Rai. Wasn' thinkin' that much of it."

The rasp of a long tail sliding against stone translates to an uneasy _it's okay,_ and the tiny sigh overhead to _just don't do it again._

"Wha' I meant to convey is... I'm glad you can get things from Lee that ya can't get from me. Our love is already complete, but we've both got room for more, aye?"

"Aye," Rai returns, and gradually relaxes. "You're right. You already make me feel complete, but Leon's shown me there's still new ways I can be satisfied. He's pretty great."

There's the hope. That when Piers shuts the door on mateship as an option— _What are you waiting on? You could say it right now_ —the loss won't be too harsh, and with two lovers by his side to compensate for having no mate, Raihan won't lack for commitment and love.

"Not to mention," Raihan continues, "the things he does to _you_ only make him more attractive to me. Watching you pine for him, seeing the way you smile just saying his name... Of course I want him at my side if he can make you feel that way."

"You big sap," he mumbles.

Raihan finds his hand and covers it with his own. "Only for you."

Things are getting a little too romantic. He can feel himself melting mushier by the second, which won't do at all when there's still things he wants to know about. Piers clears his throat and shoos away the lovey-dovey haze wanting to wrap around him and render him useless.

"There's one thing I'm still curious about."

"And that is?"

"Leon's swordsmanship." He commends himself on his straight-faced delivery.

"Hm? We didn't spar with weapons, I told you."

Piers waits it out. It only takes four patient seconds before understanding dawns, and Raihan laughs, the rich sound drawing out a giggle of his own.

"Of course, how could I forget! For your information, Leon didn't get to handle his own sword. I had great fun wielding it myself. What a noble weapon to have in my grasp... Fit so perfectly in my hand."

Piers casts a furtive glance to the hand eclipsing his. "Is it really that big?"

"Compared to me? No."

"That is the least meaningful comparison ya coulda chosen, ya gigantic bastard. I'm gonna assume he's hung then."

Raihan fights back laughter and lifts his hand, making a ring with his finger and thumb, long claws overlapping. After some pondered adjustments, he presents the resulting circumference against the sky for Piers to peer through. Against the bright blanket of stars, the resulting silhouette is easily visible. And visibly sizable.

"'Bout that thick at the base. Nice and sensitive, too. He also likes having his chest played with, and whines when you nibble his ears. Just a fun fact."

_Oh my... That already gives me ideas..._

Raihan lowers the approximation. Piers has long since visualized the measurement. "I had a nice long time to memorize the feel of him. See what makes him tick. Took longer than I thought to get him off, had to make out to help him along."

The budding fantasy of pressing Leon to the bed and arousing and edging him by touching everything _but_ his dick, implodes with a fizzle.

"You wot."

"Oh, fuck. Baby, are you serious?" Raihan cackles. "You not only deduced that I love him, and figured out that I pleased his cute body, but not once did you stop to consider that we might have kissed somewhere along the way? That's rich!"

Piers' face goes scarlet in the dark.

"Shut it!"

Predictably, Raihan does not.

"I recall you humans have a saying about, what was it, early birds catching worms? They can catch kisses too!" Raihan crows. "And what a delicious one it was!"

"I get it already!" He huffs and crosses his arms, sinking as low as he can into a chagrined ball in Raihan's lap. Really, he was daft. Of course they kissed! Knowing Raihan, it was more in line with indulgent makeouts.

It's his fault for not nabbing Leon during the hundred and one opportunities he's had to give the man a proper kiss on the lips.

"Aw, baby, you're not really mad, are you?"

"Nonsense," he says as dourly as possible, mostly for show. There's nothing to be mad about and they both know it, but that won't stop him from being fussy just because he can.

"What might I do to make it up to you, my perfect darling?"

"Nothin'. It's too late, me poor heart's broken to pieces. I cannae believe ya kissed him 'fore I could."

"Excuse me, you've kissed everywhere _but_ his mouth at this point. I'm just getting even, and that's what happens when you're a late bird."

He retorts with a sore-loser grumble. Raihan's arms wrap around him, claws suspiciously close to his waist where he's ticklish. Piers goes stiff. No tickle comes, but he trusts nothing.

"Look up for me real quick."

He trusts nothing! Still, he acquiesces, and makes his reluctance known with a glower and a pout as he glares upward.

His cheek is promptly targeted.

_Kiss._

"Better now?"

"Wha—"

_Kiss kiss._

"Oi!" He scrubs at his other cheek.

"How about now?"

It's become a trial to maintain a straight face. The next kiss targets his nose and he scrunches his expression as a last resort.

"Need a little more than that, I see..."

With his eyes closed he can't see anything, but not two seconds later, something hot and wet glides up from his chin, crosses his mouth, and catches the underside of his nose. Ugh, gross! Piers sputters and swats at his assaulter, who betrays not a mote of remorse.

"You narsty snake—mm!"

This time, Raihan gives him a proper kiss, muffling his protest and using that damnable tongue to tease his mouth into silence. Raihan is a brilliant negotiator when he wants to be. Since he's so talented, there's no harm in playing along. Just this once. Only for a few minutes.

And another few minutes.

...And perhaps a few minutes more.

He's boneless and lax by the time their lazy makeout session slows to a natural stop. It finishes with a loving nip to his lower lip and a quick (unnecessary, but appreciated) lick to sooth the painless bite. Theatrical annoyance is the furthest thing from his mind. Piers settles against his lover's chest and traces along the contours of the hard muscle there, enjoying the warmth that his partner stoked within him using that clever tongue.

"...Feeling better now?"

He groans and pushes at Raihan's face, unable to wipe the smirk off that handsome mug.

"Yes, ya lug, I forgive you for takin' his first kiss! Hope I can get the next one." He gives one last pout. "Was it nice, with him?"

"Extremely. He's inexperienced, a little clumsy, but it's cute. Between you and I, he'll get all the practice he needs."

If that ain't a pretty picture: Leon, between them. Well taken care of, spoiled rotten, released from every worldly burden with no demands other than to focus on pleasure at the hands of those he trusts. Those fantasies can be given better substance later; right now, he wants to relax in the lap of his dragon and enjoy the peaceful company.

On second thought, all that kissing wound him up a bit, and there's less tame ways to spend their alone time. Raihan so does deserve a reward for being the spectacular man that he is.

Piers twists himself until he's straddling Raihan's lap, chest to chest. "Tell me. You only took care of our Lee back there, that right?"

Always quick on the uptake when there's fun to be had, Raihan smirks, a slow-curling thing that stirs the heat low in Piers' belly.

"That's right. I prioritized our little knight and left myself alone."

"Good choice, _mo gràdh._ " He leans in close, targeting a sharp ear, and whispers. "All the more fer me."

Hands warm as embers push up his shirt and skate up his back, broad and soothing. Piers arches as those huge hands glide down and sneak past all fabric, seeking to grip and grope him directly. That's one thing he loves about his partner, and one of the differences that separates Rai from Lee. A complete lack of hesitation.

"You know..." He grinds their hips together. Raihan swells under the tease, and a single press against that familiar hardness has him feeling awfully empty inside. "We can be as loud as we want up here. No one'll hear us. I'll sing just for you tonight."

"Prettiest songbird on this mountain," Raihan gloats, and gives his arse a rougher grope. "All mine..."

"Yours," he returns, heart fluttering like the creature Raihan loves to liken him to. "Yours 'cos I ain't in any cage."

A rough purr crashes against him and sharp claw-tips press into the flesh of his arse. "That's right. Free as a dragon, so long as you stay with me forever."

Raihan ducks, and hot breath courses over his neck. A lick follows, right over that single accursed spot, a nip and a kiss on its heels. Preemptive staking of territory.

_You could say it right now. Tell him no and end this. Stop stringing him along when he's been waiting for you._

Trepidation creeps up from within his own shadows, pawing at the hems of his clothes, but he brushes it all away. Those anxieties can be explored later, those words turned over and their meanings deciphered _later._ For now, he wants to enjoy this, and fulfill the promise of intimacy that builds stronger and stronger with every press and loving caress of their bodies. Tonight is a night for enjoyment. Carefree pleasure, nothing else.

Piers reaches for his dragon's horns and gives them a rub right at the base. Raihan chases the sensation and lifts into the touch with another disarming purr, cute and affectionate, but it's obvious Raihan still has mateship and magic bonds on the mind. He'd rather it not be on either of their minds. There's much better activities to focus on.

"Want you," he simply says. That always does the trick, and sure enough, the possessive glow behind Rai's eyes fades, replaced by something less oppressive, more playful and loose and charming. Less arctic wolf, more puppy by the fireside.

Piers reaches between them and easily extricates Raihan's cock from its confines. Already so hard... Poor thing must have been pent up all day. He'll reward his dragon's patience and care towards Leon with some special care of his own.

Encouraged by attentive touch, the thick cock drips with precum from the tip, thick and slick and generous in its amount. Some kind of dragon thing, to always output so much when they know they're about to get laid. Certainly convenient for a human who can't get slick on their own.

He slips out of Raihan's arms and wings and takes a step backwards, towards the precipice he has no fear of with his dragon so close to catch him should he fall. Under the darkness of shadows cast by the moon, he disrobes one garment at a time, letting each one fall to the stone until he's bare and cold in the night—yet not shivering. Raihan's eyes glint in the darkness, slit pupils wide and reflective as the mirrors behind a cat's, and rake over his naked form with fresh hunger.

"Fuck, you're beautiful..."

Long arms open for him and he descends into their embrace. Whatever meager starlight able to reach his skin is soon denied by the slow, deliberate wrap of large wings around him. Sharp in the dark as his eyes are, they can't penetrate this liquid ink blackness, but he doesn't need sight to know where every piece of his partner is, or where they soon will be.

He takes Raihan's length and pumps it in both hands, slow and even, until the slick leaking from the tip has pooled enough around his fingers that he can reach below and press a pair of slippery digits inside himself.

"Good thing you won't have to walk back home tonight," Raihan says, voice husky and strained with need by the time Piers sits up at last.

He tucks his face into Raihan's neck and trails his lips up to a pointed ear.

"I won't be walkin' tonight _or_ tomorrow if I've got any say in it."

He lowers himself a fraction and tests the pressure of the blunt, slick head against his equally slick hole. He's always had a bad habit of underestimating the stretch needed to fit Raihan inside of him, but this time he thinks he's prepared himself well on the first try. Easy does it...

That initial breach is always the hardest. Piers' breaths become shallow as he adjusts his hips, seeking the best angle to impale himself, and he braces his hands on Raihan's shoulders before gritting his teeth and going for it.

Piers sinks halfway down that brutal length with hardly more than a shaky cry. No matter how much he stretches himself, it's always barely enough. Raihan's huge.

Sturdy hands on his waist hold him up effortlessly and take the strain off his legs, and Piers allows himself to go mostly limp, lower half as relaxed as he can make it so his partner can take over on easing him farther down, every inch taken a success that's celebrated with hushed praise and chaste kisses over his face. His arms tremble, locked around Raihan's neck. By the time he's gently settled onto a hard lap, body fully coupled with his dragon's, he's panting deep and ragged, the sound far too loud in this intimate space.

"There we go... You take me so well, baby."

Broad hands rub his back as his body adjusts. The more relaxed he is, the better, and the warmth along his back and the low purrs against his front help to ease his body into full acceptance. Raihan's outward calm and mindful nurturing juxtaposes the way his cock twitches and pulses, seeking stimulation, leaking more thick precum inside the tight body it wants so badly to fuck and fill.

He tests a tilt of the hips and finds himself as ready as he'll get. Gods, finally. He needs his dragon, needs him close and around him and against him and _in_ him, keeping him safe while he's at his most vulnerable.

Vulnerable does not mean passive.

"Ruin me," he whispers, and smiles when the gentle caress on his back turns sharp and the soft purring shifts into a low growl of want that sets his whole body alight. "No holdin' back tonight. I want you to take what's yours, jus' like I'm gonna take what's _mine._ "

He drags his dragon down by the horns and crushes their mouths together, taking those resonant growls into himself and returning in kind with a snarl of his own once they part.

No dragon is he, but Piers can withstand everything his lover can inflict, and on nights like this he welcomes the challenge with open arms.

* * *

Leon had a phenomenal night's sleep. Completely conked out from the moment his head hit the pillow to when the morning sunlight lit his room up and bade him awake.

Bright birdsong pierces through the open window and dances on the air as he stretches along the bed. His neck cracks in two spots and his shoulder in one, and he indulges in a groan on his way to sitting up.

Wow, he feels amazing. Body light, head clear, outlook fresh and glimmering with the possibilities of a new day. Judging by the character of the ambient sunlight it's still early morning. Piers should still be resting, or perhaps in the middle of his morning routine, and depending on whether there's any business around the territory that needs Raihan's supervision, the dragon could be home or away.

Why not go see?

After he brushes his hair, that is. It's a poofy mess after waking up, especially during the summer, and in the chance that Raihan's home there's no doubt that he'd be subjected to an on-the-spot combing via sharp claws. Not a terrible concept, but he wants to look his best before showing his face to the one he...

He belongs to.

No magic happened other than the magic of words and oaths. Physically, he feels no different. Yet he's certain something changed. If not himself, then the extension of himself that is his relationship with Raihan. Changed for the better. Things are a bit more lopsided than he'd be happiest with, but with the appropriate effort, that'll change. Raihan gave him that golden condition, that the instant he makes Piers his, he'll have earned himself a dragon, too. It's nice to have such concrete goals to work towards. Given a clear direction and endpoint to strive towards, his life has more clarity and purpose.

Leon yawns as he pours water from the large pitcher on the small table into the adjacent basin, and gives his face a quick wash before moving on to his hair. The brush used to be Piers'. It was happily tossed his way soon after Piers learned he had left literally every useful item behind him when he ventured to slay the monster that never needed slaying, and had no necessities other than the clothes and armor on his back. The clothes he dresses himself with are also Piers', in the sense that they were cut and sewn by his hand, tailored to fit him, with a few adjustments made here and there, such as the embroidery of thin vines that appeared along the deep neckline of this shirt one day, or the replacement of a simple drawstring cord with a braided one after Piers learned of his habit of tying knots as tight as possible and straining the material.

The one knot he takes care not to yank is that of the bow of the black silk ribbon tied around the end of the braid he just finished. Black isn't a color he's ever made a habit of wearing, but Piers said it suits him, so... he's giving it more of a shot.

"There we go."

That's as presentable as he'll get. Time to see if his loved ones are awake and present.

Propped against the corner of the room, near his bed, is his sheathed sword. He doesn't give it a glance; hasn't needed to in months, outside of taking it out for weekly drills to keep his muscle memory honed.

He's barely opened the door to the base of the tower when a hard body obstructs his view.

"Oh! Raihan, good morning!" That's strange. Usually the dragon doesn't take the stairs, preferring to fly outside and circle down to the front door instead. It's strange Raihan's down here at all. "What are you doing?"

He stands aside so the dragon can squeeze through the human-sized door. An appreciative glance is thrown his way from the corner of a bright blue eye, topping a smirk and the brush of a wing's edge along his thigh.

"Making breakfast. You look good, by the way."

Leon hurdles any embarrassment and follows Rai across the central space. "I didn't know you could cook."

"There's times I have to, so I learned. Piers can't move right now, so—"

"What! Is he okay?"

Not acknowledging his worry in the least, Raihan pads to the kitchen area, having to lean and duck around strands of dried garlic and stoop to inspect the pantry.

"Yeah, he's fine. He just shouldn't be walking if..."

Leon doesn't catch the rest of that sentence, because he's already flying up the spiral stairs of the tower. He bursts into the room at the very top, dizzy from the dash, head on a swivel and spotting Piers amidst a veritable nest of pillows and blankets, nose poked into a book that soon lowers.

"Leon? What's got you so—"

"Are you alright!" He dashes up and takes a tense perch on the edge of the bed, just outside the nest of blankets, and scans over its inhabitant for any signs of pain or injury.

He doesn't have to look far. The only thing covering Piers' chest are loose locks of hair, fine silk curtains that barely hide the myriad of bruises and angry red marks all over the bare skin.

Light above, what happened! How could Raihan be so casual about this level of injury! Distressed to the highest degree, Leon brushes the hair out of the way to better assess the damage. It can't just be superficial harm, Raihan mentioned that Piers shouldn't be walking. There's got to be something wrong with his legs.

He grasps the blanket covering the man from the waist down, intending to whisk it off, when a cold hand shoots out and grabs him by the wrist.

"Oi! I know it looks bad, but I promise I'm jus' fine. You can relax."

Relax? That's right, he shouldn't panic, he's been trained to stay cool in sight of blood and broken bodies. Leon smooths his own ruffled feathers down with a cleansing breath and meets Piers' eyes, determined to solve this mystery and deduce what he might do to help.

"What happened? Don't leave anything out."

Against all predictions, Piers blushes, and doesn't look away. Piers shifts his grip on Leon's wrist to take his hand instead. The sudden intimate touch yanks Leon out of his stressed headspace and snuffs out any desire to fuss.

"Raihan and I were makin' love last night. Sure ya want every detail o' that?"

Now it's his turn to go red. Under the context of sex, these injuries suddenly make sense. Those bruises are hickies, and the little points of red across Piers' shoulders and collarbone are nips and bites from sharp teeth. An inability to walk... there's a blatant suspect for that, and the revelation smacks his head like a slung stone.

He clears his throat, suddenly embarrassed about his overreaction. They were only having sex.

Is 'only' an appropriate word, though? Piers still looks like he got mauled! Such a swerve away from how Raihan treated Leon yesterday, with the playful nibbles without too much teeth, the appreciative touches and warm grasps, and kisses that were intense and robbed him of his breath, but were the furthest thing from rough.

"I... I see. Sorry."

Staring at the macabre evidence of the couple's intimacy brings a new thought. _Is this how Raihan prefers to make love?_ Does Raihan consider him too delicate to treat this way? Too green? If this is what Rai likes best, then maybe next time Leon can try it like this, too. Piers must have enjoyed it, so there must be something nice about getting bitten and scratched up that he can try too.

"Hey." A squeeze over his hand beckons him to look back up, where a handsome smile rewards his attention. "You're real sweet to worry about me, but I promise I'm fine."

"Is it really...?"

"'Course it is. Rai ain't always this intense. He loves bein' gentle just as much as he loves playin' rough. I'm just a bit of a masochist and ask fer it sometimes."

Oh... that's a relief. Good to know.

Wait, masochist? He's never heard that word used in a sexual context before, only a political one, in regards to officials who tend to mess up over and over without ever changing their behavior and don't seem to mind getting punished. The word almost makes more sense in a sexual light. So Piers likes pain...

He doesn't think he could ever lift a hand against Piers without collapsing to his knees in repentance. Good thing Piers has a partner who can bite and scratch and roughly grab without remorse.

Piers frees his hand and pats him on the head, trailing his touch down until it's curled beneath Leon's chin with the slightest nudge upward. There might as well be a sword's point beneath his chin for how easily he allows it to tilt his head.

"Why don't ya join me? Ya look like you could use some extra rest yourself."

"But I'm not tired at all..."

Piers chuckles. "So ya don't wanna cuddle?"

Oh! No, he very much would like that! Leon looks over the blanket nest. It's perfectly shaped to accommodate Piers' slim body.

"Is there room for me?"

"We'll make it."

Piers gingerly scoots aside, pushing pillows this way and that to make space within the nest for another. A wince has Leon springing up to assist.

"I'm fine, just, _ugh,_ lower back feels like it got struck by a soddin' chargin' bull square on. Thanks, Lee, that should do it."

There's still barely enough space for a second person to fit. They'll practically be on top of each other, which doesn't seem that much of an issue, now that he thinks about it. Leon carefully clambers over the edge of the nest and slots himself on his side next to Piers. There's no other place to put his arm than across a narrow chest, and he does so with record minimal hesitation.

He still asks. "Is this okay?"

"Mm. Extremely."

Only then does he fully relax.

It's supremely comfortable. The firmest pillows have been stuffed at the very bottom near their heads, topped by the cushier ones, allowing one to recline with good support while surrounded by, surprise, more pillows, wrapped by blankets and the softest furs.

This whole cushioned construction is absolutely Raihan's doing. It's kind of sweet to think about a dragon building such a thing to keep their partner cosy and comfortable after a strenuous night of lovemaking. Leon recognizes a few corners of cushion from downstairs furniture, too. If he weren't occupying his own bed last night, then his room would have been raided for all its comfort as well.

Piers sighs and settles lower, propped up by a small mountain of pillows, and sets the book he was reading aside. The lightly perfumed scent of his hair wafts up and reels Leon closer, and who is he to resist that sweet _come hither?_

Scare aside, today is off to a wonderful start.

Leon carefully tugs them closer together, elated when Piers turns onto his side and nestles himself snug against his chest, head tucked under his chin and a thin arm looping around his waist.

"We've got a fair spot of alone time," Piers quietly says. "Rai ain't used to cookin', so it always takes him a bit to make anythin', not that I mind. At least he doesn' try to shortcut anythin' by usin' magic anymore."

"Cooking with magic?" Leon strokes over Piers' back. He's never touched Piers' bare skin like this before... So smooth...

"Yeah. He can generate heat real easy, which wouldnae be a problem if he weren't so impatient. He can light candles 'n fires easy as that, instantaneous, but cookin' somethin' over the course o' minutes? First time he tried he thought he could speed it up a little. I ain't never seen a poor egg so black before."

Leon laughs at the thought. "He seemed to know what he was looking for when I met him downstairs."

"Oh, aye, he's had lots o' practice since then. And motivation. We've got an agreement, see. He gets to wreck me if and only if I don't have to lift a finger the next few days. He's happy to spoil me whenever he can, so it's a treat for him too," Piers says, a little bashfully. "'S nice to be able to relax every so often."

His hand pauses over Piers' back.

That. Gives him an idea. Something he can do for Piers, to show off his intent and willingness to be a good partner. He can take on all of Piers' chores, and give the man time to relax even while he's not recovering from getting ravaged. It's no expensive bouquet or jewelry set, but it's priceless all on its own. The gift of leisure! Piers is such a hard worker, it's perfect! Piers also likes having things to do and hates depending on others too much, so Leon shouldn't steal all of the chores for too long, but for just a few days, he wants to allow Piers to be lazy and pursue only what he wishes. That'll be a great start! Let's see, there's weeding the garden, taking laundry to the river for a washing... he can cook by himself, too! He'll just have to wake up really early to get everything done before Piers wakes up. Easy.

"Lee?"

"Hm?" He resumes his rubbing. The fact that he can cuddle and touch without being hyper-aware of every action and paranoid over whether he's allowed to be this close, is mind-blowing.

"Last night... Rai told me everythin' that happened. Heard ya signed on with bein' fully his."

He momentarily hides his mouth amidst the fluffy hair atop Piers' head, and smiles. "Yeah. I did."

Something deep within him glows at the out-loud admission. Possessed by a dragon. A very special one, with an easy smile and sharp humor and eyes bright as the summer morning sky out that window.

"Jus' like me, now... Feels pretty nice to have ya at me side like this." For emphasis, Piers strokes down his waist. Goosebumps lift in the wake of the touch. "We're in the same boat."

Same...

The image of a sharp, handsome grin fades away.

Same is ideal. A balanced relationship. Three individuals making up three couples making up one trio. No lopsided dynamics. No dragon having anyone while they don't have him back. Leon wants that so badly, for them to all be together without needing to spend any energy being conscious of an asymmetrical state of affairs.

All equal.

He knows Piers wants that too.

The memory of moonlight casts silver over his mind's eye. They laid themselves on the grass and cuddled that night, much like they are now. Airing out fears, seeking reassurance and guidance about this very topic. Piers wants to deny Raihan the thing he wants the most.

He won't have to do it alone.

Mindful of his friend's weak body, Leon places his hand on a bony, covered hip.

"Not quite the same boat." Caution lowers his voice further. Raihan should be busy down below, but he takes no chances. "I'm not someone Raihan wants to make his mate."

The pleasantry fades from the atmosphere, leaving it dry and barren. Piers says nothing.

"You haven't talked to him about it yet."

It's not a question.

Leon brushes away the guilt wanting to tug at him and drag him down into viscid regret for steering them into a heavy topic during a comfortable time. They need to talk about this and figure out how to move forward.

A weary sigh puffs over the exposed portion of his chest. "I know I need to do it soon. Can't let him go on thinkin' that I'll ever say yes."

Piers hugs him tighter, like he needs the protection from something. Leon wiggles his other arm beneath the slight form and holds him close against his chest, cupping the back of Piers' neck.

"It'll be okay. Whatever happens, we're in this together, right? We can overcome this."

We. Piers doesn't have to do this alone.

"I just... fear the worst, you know?"

"The longer you wait, the worse 'worst' will get."

Piers groans. "I know... I'm makin' it harder on everybody. Shoulda done it months ago."

"The past doesn't matter as much as what you can do about the future." He's learned that firsthand.

"I know that!" Piers buries his face against him. "Timin' still matters. If you weren't here, I dunno if I'd ever have the strength to tell him no in the first place. Not without bein' so terrified of hurtin' him that I sacrificed what's best for me to soften the blow."

The arm around his middle tightens, and a distressed grip pulls the back of his shirt. Leon's used to providing shelter and protection with his body, but always against physical threats, rarely the emotional. Being clung to like this sparks similar instincts, to _hold_ and _protect_ and _keep safe._

"I'll never not be scared of it goin' wrong, but... thanks to you, I've got the resolve to do this right. No clippin' me own wings just to avoid hurtin' his feelings. This needs to happen, and with you there, I... I think I can do it right. Would ye mind...? Bein' present? I-It'll help me if nothin' else."

A rush of protectiveness floods his body. Piers needs him? He'll gladly stand at his side and be his knight while he faces the unknown, ready to catch and protect him should he fall. It's Leon's sworn duty to protect what he cares about. It's what he knelt for, kissed Piers' hand for. A knight's oath. Ironclad and eternal, even if he wore a dumb cape while saying it.

"Of course I'll be there. I won't leave your side, Piers, and I'll support you should you need it."

The relief and gratitude that relaxes Piers' body firms his resolve like nothing else.

"Thank you, _mo laoch._ My warrior," he whispers. "I need your strength for this."

His blood sings with pride.

"And you'll have it. You'll always have it. Blood and hellfire, remember?"

He thinks he understands how dragons feel when absolute faith is placed in them.

As long as he lives and has the power to move his body and use his voice, nothing will threaten or harm this man. With both Leon and Raihan around, Piers is the safest person in the whole world. Even from internal strife such as this.

"Aye," Piers breathes. "I remember. I remember, and I believe you."

The arm around his waist loosens, and soon Piers' head slowly lifts from beneath his chin, only partway, such that there's enough gap for cold hands to sneak onto his chest. Almost idly, Piers strokes at the hair there, which is far more pleasant than Leon ever remembers a petted chest being. Maybe he's oversensitive because his whole body is buzzing like he just won every battle in the arena, reaffirming his place as Champion, strong and powerful and capable of not just crushing opponents but ensuring that his allies—his beloveds whom he owes this new life to—never have reason to fear anything ever again.

Goddess above, Piers makes him feel like he can do anything. Like nothing's out of reach, as long as Piers is there to either send him cheers or say _I need you, Lee._

Piers' face is so close. That pale forehead is only a tiny lean away, and Leon is gripped with the sudden desire to place his lips there. He's a man of discipline and strict training, so whims shouldn't have any hold over him, but what would be the harm? He's allowed to, right? Nothing is stopping him, and there are no consequences—it feels _right_ to want to show that tiny bit of affection. That's what his courting is, in the end. A means to show affection. This is no different.

His heart doesn't even hammer, or skip, or jolt or anything. His palms don't sweat. There's only a calm sort of warmth, both around and within him. No warning bells ring, no whispers of doubt provide resistance, when he leans that final inch closer and allows his lips to brush against Piers' forehead.

The fingers stroking his chest pause, and he freezes in response. Did he make a mistake?

Before he can open his mouth to apologize, Piers sighs a content sigh and cuddles closer. His head tilts, turns, and pauses, putting a cool cheek where a forehead was a moment ago.

Invitation?

Trusting his gut, Leon takes it, and presses a light kiss to Piers' cheek. Impossibly soft. Heats under his touch. By now his heart has snuck up in tempo, rising in tandem with this tender progression.

Piers turns once more, slow as the moon's path across the sky. Leon's lips graze along fragrant skin without him having to move at all, and after the longest single moment of his life, the brush stops, obstructed by the swell of plush lips at the corner of his mouth.

They're only one nudge away from sharing a kiss.

He gets the sense that it's up to him now. He can move, or not move, it's his choice. Piers has laid the path, shown the destination, and all Leon has to do is take that final step.

And he does.

All thoughts of romantic tradition and proper decorum wipe blank from his mind as he turns his head those sacred few degrees—a motion so incredibly slight, yet greater than all the hundreds of miles he's traveled over the course of his life—and stakes his quiet claim.

Piers' lips are thinner than Raihan's, more yielding, but no less enjoyable. Plenty of nights were spent dreaming of what his first kiss with Piers might be like, but nothing could have prepared him for _this._ The softness, the sense of deep connection, of sharing something vital and intimate and special, something unique between them that nothing else can compare to except that first time with Raihan where he felt the exact same thing.

A weak noise leaves him, soothed by a tender touch over his cheek.

He's silently grateful that he got off yesterday. Otherwise, he'd be ruining yet another first kiss with an unfortunate hard-on. He's doing great this time! It's calm, and he's not overstimulated, only content and gratified in this cosy little nest with his lover. Loved one, he corrects. Not a lover yet, but Goddess, they could be.

They really could be.

He could forget all about his desire to court and just... _ask._ The way Piers' mouth moves perfectly against his makes him pretty positive that he won't be rejected. It's just a hunch.

Amateur that he is, Leon forgets to breathe properly, and breaks the kiss so he doesn't exhale too much too close to Piers' face.

"There's something I need to tell you," tumbles out of him. "I- I was gonna wait, but—"

"I know." Piers' eyes are alight with hunger beneath their heavy lids. "Whatever ya wanna say, I kenned it long ago." A light touch grazes up the back of his neck. "Dinnae stop now..."

The tug does nothing to bring him closer for another kiss, because oh, god.

Piers said he already knew.

Not only that, but Piers knew _for a while._

Has he been that obvious this whole time?

Mortification flattens him against the bed. Not only Raihan, but Piers knows about his feelings, too! It was enough of a shock to hear the dragon state that he loves Piers, but to come from the man himself... He wants to submerge into all these pillows and never surface again.

How merciful, for them to grant him the time and space to navigate his own emotions first...

Silver lining, though! It's kind of a—not quite a _relief,_ that Piers knows, but a safety net. Piers knows, has known, and never preemptively rejected him or turned him away. Extra confirmation that being in love is safe and welcome. Leon relaxes a fraction.

Piers takes pity on him and nuzzles his cheek.

"Sorry, Lee," he apologetically says. "Didna mean tae let slip that..."

"It's okay. Raihan told me he already knows, too. Guess I'm not that good at keeping secrets..."

"Hey." Piers cups his cheek with a smile. "Still havnae heard the words yet. Those're still a gift not yet given. Guarantee ya I'll be the happiest body alive when they are."

"But if it's not a surprise..."

"Ye think that makes it less special somehow?" A smooth chuckle vibrates against him and drops into a silky whisper. "The waitin's got me on tenterhooks, love." Cool fingers walk up his chest. "An' whenever ya choose to say it, I've got some words o' me own meant just fer you. Think you'll like 'em, too."

The world slows to a stop.

Does that... mean what he thinks it means?

Piers likes him back. Loves him back. The notion that Piers might care deeply about him is what helped Leon realize he was in love in the first place, but—Piers? Actually _loving_ him?

"You mean you... You really..."

One look into those sincere eyes lifts the pen over their emotional contract. Leon's no expert at reading the subtleties off people's faces and tones, but this? There's nothing subtle about this, and a single smiling nod signs the bottom line.

It's really true.

Elation blazes through him as if his body were a flimsy wick, consumed in an instant. He no longer needs to think of his feelings in the one-way. _He's_ not just in love, _they_ are! Bless the Light, forget about courting first! He's still going to do it all, of course, but not as a means to an end, just as a celebration of what they already have!

His exhilaration must be written all over his face, because Piers laughs and throws an arm around him for a hug, snuggling closer with only a few hitches from aches and pains that are the only things stopping him from swaddling Piers into a bear hug and crushing him like he's trying to bring their hearts close enough to communicate with each other through shared beats.

There's something thrilling, special, about Knowing without yet Saying. Like a secret they both share, a shiny present waiting to be unwrapped that makes him giddy just to look at even if its contents are no mystery.

"Does this mean that..."

"That what?" Piers giggles. "I can't read yer mind all the time."

Words have become a burden. He wants to ask what this means for their relationship. If they're together now. If this means they're a trio now. If them being in a romantic relationship will impact how Raihan takes the news of 'no.'

They might have moved forward, but nothing's gotten any simpler.

Piers strokes down his arm. "Need some time to process it...? We should probably include Rai in the conversation, anyhow."

Thankful for the out, he nods. "You're right. We shouldn't start anything without letting him know first. Maybe after you...?"

A flicker of something passes over Piers' face, too quick for him to hope to parse.

"Alright. S'ppose it's good lev—motivation. For me to get off me arse and tell 'im already. Got an extra reward to look forward to, don't I?"

"So... we aren't telling Raihan yet," he tries to confirm.

"Aye. Not until I've done my part."

This doesn't count as keeping secrets, does it? No, he needs to think of it like waiting for the optimal moment to share a surprise. It's not a secret if they have every intention of sharing. Once the timing is right.

There's nothing to be uneasy about.

He takes refuge in a cuddle, and the sensation of Piers' slim body tucked against his is an effective balm over any misgivings. He wants to go back to feeling good and giddy.

"...Can we kiss again?"

Piers chuckles. "While we're still alone, sure. If you wanna kiss me, then kiss me."

He proceeds to act on his desires without sparing the time to think, and it's wonderful.

Piers' warmth is wonderful.

The hand that undoes his braid and pushes through his freed hair and grips it is wonderful.

The sly tongue tempting him to play more is wonderful.

Kissing someone he loves, who he knows loves him back, is probably the most wonderful of all.

The only thing that isn't so wonderful is how aroused he's getting. It's better than yesterday, when he got hard after a single chaste kiss. This time he's managing to hold his burgeoning arousal at bay, but it's a tenuous thing. The plushness of Piers' warm mouth isn't the worst threat; it's literally everything else. Piers' subtle natural scent enveloping him, the flushed satin of delicate skin beneath his fingers, the confident tug of the hair right over his nape, everything. His only saving grace is that he manages to press back against the edge of the nest, keeping his hips away from the object of his intense affections.

Raihan said there's no shame in his attraction to them, but what's he supposed to do when the cause for the inevitable heat in his body is literally bedridden from a night of intense lovemaking? Piers needs to recover!

A harder tug on his hair pulls his rational thoughts right out of his head. Piers is doing some incredibly inviting things with his mouth right now and he is one breath away from attempting what Raihan indirectly taught him yesterday. There's obvious skill that goes into using tongue inside someone else's mouth, and he's hoping Piers won't hold his inexperience against him, or find his attempts lackluster compared to a partner with such an impressive tongue.

His fears are undone moment by moment, as Piers strokes his arm and grips like he's enjoying it every time Leon experiments, and hums sweet approval that does wonders for his confidence. A few times he tilts his head wrong and bumps their noses, or has to retreat because he forgot to breathe again, and Piers is there to smile and croon and praise him for being a quick learner, and murmur advice that's taken completely to heart and immediately applied.

"If only I weren't so sore," Piers coyly says the next time they part. A cool fingertip swirls over his chest, dipping beyond the edge of the neckline and pushing deeper along his pectoral. "I'd love to get a taste of a few other things..."

Up to this point, he managed to avoid getting hard by focusing so intently on honing a new skill and nothing else. The finger sneaking into his shirt becomes a whole hand and this time he stops breathing on purpose.

"Piers," he labors to say evenly. "I'm sorry, but—I have to stop. Can we change the subject to something less...?"

Less appealing? Less sexy? Less likely to make him do something regrettable while wrapped around the man he loves, such as start to rut against his hip?

"Hm? Oh, gods. So sorry, love, I need to remember ya ain't used to this. No shame in stoppin', so don't you apologize fer nothin'."

Piers scoots away one careful inch at a time, and the marginal distance helps clear his head. Leon expels his tension with a sigh and relaxes against the nest.

"Thank you. I- I don't want to go too far when you're injured." He glances over the bruises that stand out as starkly as fresh blood would, against skin so pale.

"You call it injury, I call it victory spoils." Piers smirks and flicks a lock of hair over his shoulder. "Did ye not see Raihan's fair share downstairs?"

He does not recall seeing anything, but then again, he might have been a bit distracted by how Raihan was looking at him.

"I'm afraid not," he says. "I, uhm. Ran up here the instant he said something about you being stuck in bed."

"Oh, chivalrous warrior o' mine. How kind of ya to fret over little ol' me." Piers reaches across the scant space between them and cups his cheek. "I promise you, I'm always safe and well in Raihan's hands."

He holds Piers' wrist and nuzzles into the touch, daring to place a kiss to the heel of his palm. The freedom to give romantic affection will take a while to get used to. Especially since it's supposed to be a secret—not a secret, just a pending surprise—to Raihan.

"It's just not pleasant for me to see you hurt," he admits against soft skin. "I know you like it, so I'll try not to mind it. As long as I know you really wanted it."

"I assure you, I always ask fer it. Rai's allowed to say no too, ya know. There's times he ain't in the mood to be rough with me, and then it's my turn to respect his wishes."

With that, something finally clicks, and Leon smiles a relieved smile. "I see now. Sorry, I know I have a lot to learn. Thank you for helping me understand. And for teaching me how to kiss better," he adds, face warm. "I want to get good at it. For both you and Raihan."

Piers chuckles. "Heard he snatched yer first kiss away from me. Tha's what I get for takin' too long. Shoulda done it right after we took that tumble down that hill. I'm still pissed at Rai for interruptin' that."

Now his face is steaming hot. "Y-You knew I wanted to kiss you back then?"

"Ye ain' exactly hard to read when you're inches away and makin' big eyes of yearnin' at me. I was so ready for it to happen, too."

Leon's speechless.

"But alas," Piers sighs, "our sweet dragon just had to show concern that we didn't crack our heads open from the fall. Curse him."

He stammers into coherence. "I—well, he—I was—I hope this made up for it?"

The brightness behind Piers' smile makes every embarrassment worth it. "More than. Thanks to waitin' till now, we got to take our time with it." Piers glances out of the nest. "Speakin' of..."

"What? Speaking of what?"

In answer to his unasked question, a flurry of wind buffets the invisible pane in the window. A second later a large body perches on the wide stone sill.

"Hey, baby, guess who didn't burn a single..." Raihan pauses, and his voice takes a twist towards highly interested. "Well now... would you look at that."

The dragon slips into the room and stalks towards the bed. He pauses at the foot, towering tall and staring down with appreciative eyes. Leon suddenly becomes conscious of his position. The nest was built to fit Piers; does it violate some kind of dragon etiquette to have inserted himself into it without permission?

Piers throws an arm around him and hikes a leg over his hip. The blanket slips high over Piers' milky thigh and grants Leon the revelation that this entire time, Piers has been completely nude.

He doesn't have the mental capacity to think too hard about that.

"See somethin' ya like?" Piers comments, cool and casual.

Raihan only drags his tongue along his teeth, like he's hungry and debating whether or not to eat what's in front of him. Leon shifts in place, and the hand on his head strokes through his bangs, combing them up and allowing them to flutter back down over his forehead. Raihan's eyes snap to the motion.

"Breakfast is ready..."

"For us, you mean?"

Out of sight, Raihan's tail rasps along the stone floor. Leon's come to understand that means the dragon is deliberating something.

"Yeah. You need to eat. Get your strength back." Raihan's attention snaps to Leon, and the intensity fades. "Mind carrying Piers down for me?" A smirk and a wink. "Stairs are a bit much for him right now."

"Oh, uh, sure! I'll take care of him!"

"Thanks, babe. See you two downstairs!" Raihan strides back to the window and hops out, wings snapping open for an easy glide down.

Two pats on his back. "Ya really will have ta help me up. I'd apologize for bein' an inconvenience if I didn' know how much ya like helpin' me."

Leon clambers out of bed with a grin and a soldier's salute. "Correct on that, sir!"

"Hah, I'll take it. Just don't call me sir, if ya don't mind."

"Of course!"

Helping Piers out of bed means getting him out of the nest first. It'd be a shame to deconstruct any part of it. Good thing Piers is so light. Leon gently scoops his featherweight friend out of the nest with ease and carefully edges backwards until his feet are on the floor. There!

As soon he turns, something slips, flutters along his leg, and pools on the floor next to his foot.

The blanket.

The arms looped around his neck are suddenly cold compared to the flush reaching down his nape.

"Would ya mind settin' me over by that wardrobe?"

He crosses the room in a stiff march, back ramrod straight and eyes fixed on the dark wood of the wardrobe. Don't look down. Don't look down.

"There's a dear. Thank ya kindly."

As soon as Piers is safely on his feet, Leon whirls around to grant privacy Piers never asked for. He's not fast enough to avoid catching a glimpse of massive, hand-sized bruises bracketing Piers' hips, or the—is that a bite mark? On his ass? Right there on his ass?

So much for not looking. Leon shamefully turns his back, and tries not to let his imagination reign too strongly as Piers gets dressed (hopefully in something airy and light that won't irritate the bites). There's plenty of other things to think about, like how he only has a couple days to write that letter to Marnie and figure out how to use anonymous verbiage while still conveying all he wants to convey. There's so much to talk about, but he'll limit himself to a single page.

Things like how great 'P' and 'R' are. And how much they've taught him, both about life and about himself.

Should he talk about love? How he feels towards his not-yet-but-hopefully-soon-to-be partners? No, Marnie isn't that old, she probably wouldn't be interested in a complete stranger's love life.

Okay, good, his mind is cleansed. That wasn't so hard.

"Leon?"

"Yes?"

A soft bundle presses against his lower back. He turns and takes it without looking, caught by brilliant ice-green eyes that glitter with mischief.

"I'm afraid I need some help with dressin' me lower half... Mind pullin' a few things up fer me?"

His stomach flips and he hastily turns around before discovering what's in his hands.

Small undergarments, linen shorts, and a pair of long, thin socks.

His heart's already in his throat by the time two small hands perch atop his waist from behind. "Might be best if ya kneel yourself down, love. Feel free to close yer eyes."

_Goddess grant me strength._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was an exorbitant amount of kissing in this chapter. Geez.
> 
> Translation notes:  
> mo gràdh - scottish gaelic for 'my love.'  
> mo laoch - pronounced 'lay-uk,' and means 'my warrior.' Used both by scottish and irish gaelic!  
> kenned - past tense of ken, which means 'know.'
> 
>  **Next chapter:** Raihan learns how Piers really feels.


	12. No, love

"Good mornin' Sourdough! Good mornin', Satin, Willy!"

The dull clank of a bell announces the arrival in progress of the first of three goats. Sourdough comes trotting out of the shed first, proudly leading the way for Satin, the milk goat, and Willy, the kid, to pick their way over to him in the darkness of pre-dawn.

Milo's always been an early riser, but today's a special day that requires he rise before the rooster's awake to crow.

For today, the dragon visits.

He's been preparing for this all week. After so many visits and exchanges of goods, something so fantastical has become part of life's routine. Doesn't make it any less worthy of anticipation.

"Did you three have a good sleep?" He leans against the fence with a smile. Even if this is earlier than their usual morning, his goats always get up when they notice him out and about. It's really sweet. "I sure did. Slept like a babe even though I was up half the night from excitement."

Satin stretches her neck up and lips at the wood of the fence. Milo chuckles and gives her a scratch behind the ears.

"You're right, miss. Won't do me any good to fret about the inevitable. I'll take that advice next time. Now, I want you and your little family to stay nice an' calm this time around, okay?" He taps her lightly on her velvety warm nose. "The dragon's a friend. He ain't here to eat ya."

He pretends the earnest lipping of his hand is a yes. His goats aren't used to the recurring visitor yet. Milo hasn't had them all that long, barely more than two seasons; the only reason he's able to keep them at all is thanks to the dragon agreeing to keep the wolves away.

Their agreement is pretty lopsided, in his opinion. Milo hardly feels he contributes all that much, when security is so priceless in a remote spot such as his farm. All he does is gather, grow, trade for, or buy things the dragon says he needs, and in return his home is kept safe from anything hungry for meat, whether it's his own or that of his poor innocent animals. He's never slept as soundly as he has since the dragon made himself known.

None of the other villagers share the same opinion, which is unfortunate. Understandable, but unfortunate. He learned years ago that it's best to not try to convince them otherwise. Stubborn folk. Besides, the dragon prefers to be feared. Says it's safer. Milo understands why, but it's still a shame that the village hates the creature so... He's always known the truth about the good dragons do for the land. His family's always been thankful rather than fearful of these noble beasts, and it's an honor that he gets to assist one.

Milo sighs and folds his arms over the wooden rail. Willy kicks at the air and hops over to the upturned wheelbarrow in the pen, little hooves tap-tapping on the wood. Cute little fella. Milo watches him test his bravery by leaping off the small height, and the antics draw a small smile. The goats make decent company as long as he does all the talking and stretches his imagination.

That's the main reason he looks forwards to the dragon's visits so much. Raihan's one of the few who'll converse with him. In a manner that can be deemed friendly, that is. If all Milo wants is to hear voices all he has to do is skip down to the village. No shortage of words there. Just not friendly ones.

It's not that the village is full of cruel or ignorant people (outside of matters regarding the local winged terror, that is). They're just superstitious, and Milo happens to fall under the canopy of things they're naturally suspicious of. He doesn't blame them one bit for being wary of anything magical, courtesy of that old wizard who used to live where the dragon now does. That fella did lots of unconscionable things and had a downright nasty temper. So no, he doesn't blame anyone for being cautious.

He doesn't blame the dryad who saw fit to give him a blessing, either. Her gift really has been a major help, and is the only reason he can run a farm all by his lonesome. Things are a mite too easy, sometimes, so he welcomes the extra challenge of raising animals, and helping provide for his neighbors. Neighbors who talk back when he tips his hat and smiles and says hello!

The dragon doesn't often return any smiles, but some people are just like that. Raihan's open to conversation and doesn't shun him and that's what matters.

If nothing else, he's grateful for the opportunity to do something with all this extra food. Growing surplus happens nearly by accident thanks to his blessing. It's heartbreak to let it all go to waste when the people in the village loathe to touch his 'cursed' food, not even willing to feed it to their pigs, and there's only so much that can fit into his own stores or eat by himself. Making the long trip to the nearest real town, with real governance and guards and trade connections to bigger cities, to sell things, requires he be away from the farm for too many days to be worth it. He about fainted from relief (and several other emotions) when the dragon first approached him, impossibly vibrant against the snowy midwinter landscape, offer in one hand and the neck of a freshly killed deer clutched in the other, dripping red into the blinding snow.

_Help me, and I'll help you._

The dragon cared not for his status as one touched by the magical. In fact, he complimented what Milo brought up from his root cellar, noting how everything had been grown with care and was astoundingly healthy, and laid out a trade agreement on the spot that Milo accepted with the shakiest hands he's ever had, that had nothing to do with the bitter cold.

It didn't take long to figure out why a dragon of all things needed such human provisions. The day he heard distant singing through the bare, snowy forest, faint as a ghost but lovely as birdsong, everything clicked, and Milo threw himself into being the best help possible with triple the effort.

And here they are! A winter, a spring, and a month of summer under their belts that they've gotten through together. By now it's casual routine. Or it would be casual if Milo didn't get so riled up for these visitation days. Speaking of, should be about time!

The goats startle and skitter back from the fence, Sourdough's bell clanking up a storm. Poor things will get used to it someday! Bit hard to override a prey animal's instincts, but they'll get there. Milo turns and smiles, already waving.

The farm's sturdy palisade means nothing to someone who can fly. The dragon appears from the sky, silhouette mostly wing and tail until he's close enough that Milo doesn't have to squint to see him anymore

In contrast to such a large creature, the landing is graceful, delicate. Raihan lights down in the clearing in front of his humble home, long legs absorbing the impact and wings spread to limit how much wind and dust thrashes about over the grass. Loosely hung in a clawed hand is a deep wicker basket, the twin to the one Milo prepared. They've swapped these baskets between them dozens of times by now.

Raihan looks wonderful, as always. Subtracting all the... well, dragony parts, he's a very fine looking fella. Not often that a simple farmer like him gets to see someone so grand. It'd be dazzling if Milo hadn't grown used to the dragon's flashy looks by now.

"Good mornin' to ya!"

"Hey."

Raihan strolls up, large wings furling, lax as a tom on its way to a nap. It's easy to view this beast as terrifying, what with the huge stature and sharp silhouette. And all the teeth. And the slit pupils. And sharp claws. But he doesn't hurt anyone unnecessarily! Milo's pretty sure that Raihan's only killed those dead-set on killing him first, and self-defense is a law of nature as understandable as they come.

The way the dragon holds the basket out one-handedly makes it appear light, but Milo accepts it with both arms just in case, and sure enough, it's hefty. Milo knows what's inside already but he can't help but snatch a quick peek.

"Thanks for the fresh herbs! I'll be sure to put 'em to good use!"

Oh! And new fruits! It's no secret that the dragon's territory is expansive, but Milo's continually surprised every time Raihan finds something new to give him. These are some of the fattest cherries he's ever seen, rivaling those that he'd be able to grow with his special touch.

There's something heavy at the bottom, wrapped in an excess of large, shiny leaves. Meat courtesy of the beast's own claws. Never in his humble life would Milo have ever thought a dragon of all things would provide him with game. Already processed, too. Blood drained, fully skinned, no innards. A gesture that Milo appreciates immensely for how much time it saves him. The herbs supplied will help cut the gaminess of the meat, and the fruit is best appreciated fresh while in season. He can think about making jam and preserves later.

He does love refining his recipes. When all you've got is yourself and a tiny surplus of ingredients, why not pass the time with a little kitchen experimentation? According to his amateur taste buds, he's not that bad.

It's an amazing privilege that a common guy like himself gets to have such high quality ingredients. While this land has no lord to claim ownership of all the forest's richest bounties, one can't forget their station so easily. One could say that the dragon is the closest thing they have to a lord or a king, but... to most everyone else, the best term they would use for the beast is 'tyrant.' Hard to see Raihan as a tyrant when his generosity enables Milo to eat like a king.

"Do you have your trade?"

The smooth voice startles him into action. "Course! Got it right here for ya."

Plenty of vegetables from his garden—aubergine, squash, carrots, in quantities that correspond with how easy they are to keep—flour from the village (imagine his surprise when he first learned the dragon's household had the means to bake their own bread), a batch of eggs from his chickens as a bonus, and, the best part, a new book he found the last time he took the long trip to the nearest large town, whose old owner needed their cart fixed and was happy to part with the book as thanks, as he had no other means of payment, not that Milo would have normally accepted anything in return for doing a good deed. Books are the exception! He has no clue what this newest title is about, given that he can't read, but he hopes it's interesting for the person Raihan gives them to.

He lifts the sturdy wicker from his side and holds it up with a smile. Their trades have gotten much heavier recently. It was a surprise when the dragon started asking for extra provisions, promising more meat in return that Milo said he didn't need, don't worry about a thing! While Milo didn't question the change at the start, he's built up enough courage to ask the question he's been dying to confirm. Not directly, of course! Raihan would sidestep his curiosity if he was too forward.

The weight lifts from his hands. Here goes. He's rehearsed this.

"Your appetite's really increased lately," he says, casual as can be.

Rahian peers into the basket and tilts his head at the unfamiliar additions that only just became in season. "...Collectively, yes."

There it is! An opening! He didn't think he'd get this far. Okay, Milo, here's the crucial moment.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you had another mouth to feed."

The dragon's silence and curling tail is enough to give it away. Milo's pleasant calm blooms into interest that he's careful to keep hidden. The dragon is rather sensitive about people trying to learn too much about whoever he has hidden within his territory. Milo's gleaned plenty just by being patient, friendly, and observant, but there's nothing wrong with taking the tiniest amount of initiative, roundabout as it is.

He dares to clear his throat. "I won't pry, but if you tell me what they like, I'll see what I can do about fetchin' it for 'em. Won't be any trouble."

It's possible there is no second person the dragon's hiding. Milo's dwelt on all the possibilities. Maybe the first person just needs more food! If they're a woman—and it's really hard to discern gender from the faint singing that filters its way to him on days when the wind has stalled—then it's possible that... well... they're pregnant! That way, even if there isn't a second mouth to feed now, there will be in the future. He hopes he can convince Raihan to let him help up close and personal; he's delivered plenty of babies before and knows how it goes. Granted, they were all livestock, and there's plenty of folk who wouldn't take kindly to the idea of a man being present while a woman's giving birth, but he can't just stand back and let someone who might need help suffer all alone.

It's also possible that he's over-thought that potential future. When you've got loads of time alone your imagination tends to latch onto anything interesting and make a big fuss over it.

Raihan tilts his head back, eyes full of scrutiny. "Offering to do even more for us... What are you asking for in return for these favors?"

"Only the satisfaction of knowin' I could help." He smiles and dusts his hands down his pants. His heart's hammering like a carpenter after a hailstorm, but he's not backing out now! "You're my friend, after all. And I've never met whoever yer takin' care of, but I consider them my friend too."

More often than not, he'll discover some surprise tucked into his basket. A tiny bundle of wildflowers, or a cord of twisted grass tied into a complex bow. Surely not the dragon's doing, which only leaves whatever human Raihan is caring for.

Raihan looks conflicted over something, but Milo won't press no matter how much curiosity is pecking at him. Dragons are mysterious creatures and it's not his place to question how their minds work. Even if he's dying to know what Raihan's reaction is to being called a friend.

"You don't consider them trapped by me?"

Milo double takes. Raihan asked him a question. Outside their usual business talk. This counts as making conversation, don't it? Better than dismissing his bold friendship claim outright, or worse, rejecting it. This is a huge step. Huge!

"N-No, not at all! I've always had a mighty strong hunch you two have a good relationship." Is that a gleam of pride in the dragon's eye? "And no cruel captor would be takin' such mindful care of their prisoner. I- I can tell you care a great deal about 'em. Whoever's stayin' with you lives quite a good life, I always figured!"

The dragon's mouth takes a meandering curve of consideration. Milo prays in the meantime, that everything he said was true, and that he didn't offend by revealing just how much he's thought about his neighbors.

"You're right." Raihan relaxes his wings. "He does live quite a good life. No harm in admitting it to you, who's done so much for us."

Heat blossoms across Milo's face. He lifts his hat off and hides behind it, peeking over the top edge at the smirking dragon.

So the person really is a male! So much for the pregnancy theory. Gosh, this is the most he's learned about them in... months! Maybe he can find out more!

"You seem to be happier lately too." He fiddles around the frayed edge of his hat. "Less tense. Least, since the last time I saw ya. I-If that ain't too forward a' me to point out."

Another analytical stare. Milo does his best not to squirm.

"Guess you're right." Raihan shrugs and breaks the stare, much to his relief. "I have had a good past few days, now that you mention it."

"Did someone do somethin' special for ya?" he asks hopefully. Please, even a crumb of information.

A smirk flickers across Raihan's face. "You could say that. Speaking of, I need to get back soon. Here, take this. You know what to do with it."

When Milo puts his hat back on and peers up from the broad brim, a scaled hand presents something flat and rectangular, pinched between two clawed fingers.

Another letter! And another reason to prepare for a long trip to town again. Got to make sure it reaches an official courier. He's got no clue how letters travel so far, especially to places he's never heard of before, like that 'Achisamby' place. The International Courier's Guild sure is full of... passionate folk. Milo can appreciate passion for one's trade, but every time he drops something off at the nearest guild and stammers through where he'd like it to be sent, the perfect balance between dead seriousness and utter zeal for fulfilled deliveries intimidates him without fail.

Milo reverently takes the sealed paper. It's thicker than usual, that's interesting.

Raihan doesn't have to tell him not to open it. Milo would never peek at something that's meant for someone else, it's simply not his place! The very first time he was given a letter to deliver, the dragon made sure to say that if he was caught snooping, he'd have one less eye to snoop with. Milo only smiled, just as assured in his own honesty and honor as he was in the dragon's conviction to make good on any threat, and crossed his heart on the spot.

"Yessir. Might take me a bit 'til my next trip away from the farm, but I'll be sure to get this to the right hands!"

"Counting on you." The dragon shifts the basket to one hand, strolling backwards towards open ground. "Bye, then."

"Ah, wait!"

He always asks this. Can't stop himself.

Raihan pauses mid-crouch, wings poised high for takeoff. Waiting for him to speak. He always asks this question, even when Raihan doesn't wait around for him to ask it.

"Reckon you'll need another trade in the future?"

_You stickin' around for longer? Will this place remain your home?_

The dragon chuckles and throws him a glance over a scaled shoulder. "Sure will. Same schedule as always."

Only when the promise of a future visit is secured can Milo fully relax. "R-Right!"

"See you then, Miles." After a pause, Raihan snaps his fingers. "No, Milo! See ya, Milo."

He used his name! That's a first! Maybe Raihan really does consider him a friend! Milo waves with gusto. "See ya Raihan! 'Til then, y'all take care! S-Say hi to, uhm—"

He doesn't get the chance to finish. Massive wings sweep to the earth and launch Raihan into the air, wind whipping the grass into a frenzy as he spirals high and sets off over the treetops.

"Whew..." Milo slumps and takes a much-needed moment to just breathe. That tuckered him well out. He did a pretty good job, he thinks! Talked like regular and everything. Didn't quite get to ask about the people Raihan lives with... Oh, shoot, and he let himself get completely distracted from learning more about the mystery new person! That may or may not exist after all!

One day he hopes to meet whoever they all are. The person with the pretty voice most of all. He doesn't want to get greedy, but darn it, there's only so much talking he can do with his goats before he becomes certified crazy.

\- - -

"There. That'll do 'er."

Milo straightens and wipes his brow with the rag secured around his neck. One mended roof. Not too shabby! It's too bad a green thumb doesn't translate much to carpentry, but he's always been rather handy no matter what kind of tool he's holding, given a little side practice first.

Sun sure is fierce today. Milo lifts his hat and tousles his own hair, gets some air flowing over his damp locks.

Quite a nice view from up here. He can see his whole farm and all its plots, the little shed for Sourdough, Satin, and Willy, and the long edge of the forest just on the other side of the tall stakes protecting his land from what lives in those woods. On the other side of his land, where there's no fencing in place, as it's only flat open land that predators don't like prowling through, is the path that connects his farm to the village proper. It's not really a trail, barely different from the surrounding grass with only the slightest depressions to imply a line to follow, but it's important, even with only one man's feet treading upon it.

Wait...

Milo straightens up from his spot on the roof, shields his brow, and squints.

There's a person there!

Someone's approaching, tiny in the distance but unmistakably making their way towards him. Two visitors in one day, imagine that! How lucky!

Looks to be a woman. Nobody whose gait he recognizes. A total stranger, in these parts? Nobody ever comes into these wild lands unless they're desperate, or, on a mission. Plenty of outlaws and nobodies pad the population of the tiny villages in this apolitical region. Those needing to escape from under the thumb of their lords and masters. Back when that infamous wizard lived in the core of the region, people risked his volatility over the guaranteed cruelty and punishment of the law of ruled lands. That crazy old coot's gone now, vanished for god knows what reason, but now a second terrifying creature's shacked up here to keep all the neighboring kingdoms from testing their luck at snapping the land up.

One thing the transfer of power did lead to is the steady influx of knights, mercenaries, and monster hunters wanting to try their luck against the dragon. Too many people have made their way here only to slink home battered and bloody, or to meet their end entirely. He overheard at the village that the last knight to pass through these parts never returned.

Surely this lady doesn't mean to do the same! Milo can see now that she's quite slim. Any beast, dragon or not, would snap her up as hardly a mouthful.

Raihan's ordered him not to interfere with any strangers trying to find him, but this has got to be different. It's a maiden, he can't sit idly by while one wanders so close to the dragon's territory. She could also just be needing something that the village told her to come here to get, or maybe she's plumb lost.

Whoever she is, and whatever it might be that she needs, Milo's more than happy to lend a helping hand.

* * *

The bed is empty when Piers wakes up. The lack of Raihan is explainable, since he's off meeting Milo, but the lack of Leon is strange. They all fell asleep together, so where could he have gone? There's no way Rai took Leon along to see the farmer, that's just too risky...

Urgh, no, he refuses to worry. Everything's just fine. Has been fine. Glorious, actually, with two people all too willing to lend his overworked body a hand when he needed it. Two lovely people. Who both love him.

Piers' heart does a clean leap. Leon... Leon, Leon, Leon, his darling little Lee. Every precious moment alone together was spent wrapped up in each other. Being in recovery mode only made it easy, because of course Leon should be at his side to give aid and keep him company while he's in a weakened state.

Piers rolls over within the nest, which has since been expanded to fit three bodies using the contents of Leon's downstairs bedding, and plants his face into the spot where his beloved knight was resting when they all fell asleep together. He breathes a little. The comforting scent gets to his head and his heart does yet another flip, this time higher and lighter, and he can't stop his sore legs from doing little kicks against the bed. He's so in love it's almost stupid.

Speaks volumes that a dragon allows someone else to tend to his partner, rather than get all overprotective and growl them off. Those two really make a good pair in taking care of him. Under their stout determination to prevent Piers from having to lift a single finger, he's healed at a remarkable rate. Still a bit battered, but he doesn't limp so much anymore. At this rate, maybe he and Raihan can play rough more often.

Not anytime soon, that's for sure. He's barely gotten better enough to move on his own and he intends on taking full advantage of it, for while small breaks are nice, too long of a break makes him antsy. There's a limit to how much he can be pampered until appreciation melds into guilt, a limit that he's rapidly approaching.

He can at least fix himself something to eat using the rest of the perishables from the last time Raihan visited the farmer. Obviously he's going to cook for Leon as well. Wherever that dear may be.

Piers' body revolts as he drags himself out of bed. The bites littering his skin sting when stretched, and his lower back still feels like one gigantic internal bruise. Getting his feet on the floor and walking without an absurd limp is an accomplishment.

He gets dressed on his own, without a delightful blushing Leon to tease into helping him pull his socks up, or to reward with a secret kiss for a job well done. His eyes drifting to the mess of papers on the writing desk.

Last night, just in time for bed, Leon finished his letter.

What a beautiful note the final product was. Leon's handwriting was neat and strong with distinct loops of his _g_ 's and _y_ 's and no deciphering needed to absorb the written contents. Leon took Piers' warnings to heart and kept things sterile, but no less engaging. Even while being vague and mysterious and repressing himself behind the need for secrecy, Leon's character shone through every stroke and punctuation mark, and he was quite clever about some of his phrasings. Marnie's sure to pick up on every true meaning, while a stranger would be left scratching their head.

Piers almost choked up reading it. Took everything he had to calmly approve, tuck the paper into the envelope, and seal it with a dab of wax using no seal but a simple press of stone. Pure simplicity, safe anonymity. Right now the envelope should be in Raihan's hands, soon to be passed to the farmer's, and from there, to a Courier, where it's guaranteed to be in safe passage towards Marnie.

He sincerely hopes she's still doing well after all this time. She must be a fine young woman now, preparing to wrest control back to where it belongs, in a Queen's steady hands. Their father can't prevent that from happening. The people, human and non, would never stand for it. Àitesambith needs her Queen. Perhaps one day, once Marnie is established ruler, he might...

He might consider visiting home. His homeland, he corrects. The place he calls home has changed, and it's all around him, where he stands. It's the people he's with. Raihan and Leon. This place is all their home.

By the time Piers has gingerly descended from his tower, hair brushed and braided and dressed in something light and linen for the day's inevitable heat, he is greeted by a house that's... slightly different. He freezes in the doorway to the cottage and blinks at how _bright_ home is.

Every corner that could be straightened was straightened. The ambient sunlight pouring through every open window shows not a speck of dust in the air, and everything within line of sight that's polishable—knobs on furniture, the brass candle holders set into the walls, even the bloody broom handle resting against the wall over there—gleams with god knows how many hours of elbow grease. The whole place is as spick and span as spicked and spanned can be.

In the middle of it all stands Leon, cloth tied around his forehead, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, proud grin resting on the pedestal of his face.

"Good morning!"

"Er... mornin'." Piers gives the sparkling cottage another slow pan. "Looks like someone had an early start to their day..."

Leon's chest puffs in pride. "You were weary these past couple days, so I took it upon myself to handle everything that needed handling down here in the meantime!"

Weary. That's the kindest way to phrase 'so fucked out you could hardly walk and your body found new ways to tremble each time you moved' that Piers has ever heard.

"You really didn't have to go this far, love, the house can survive me not doin' what I should for a spell."

"But this way, you don't have to do any catch-up at all. I did _all_ the laundry, drew the water since Raihan's gone, watered and weeded the whole garden, everything! Consider today a day off!"

What, like a vacation in his own home? A break from the everyday when he's already been lazing on his sore arse?

...Gods, look at that face, he can't find fault with any of this. Let the man show kindness in a way that makes him happy. Piers will find ways to make it up to him.

"Thanks," he says, and the sunrise smile he gets in return makes it all worth it. "That's real thoughtful of ya."

Leon straightens impossibly taller and stands aside with a modest sweep of his arm towards the kitchen area.

"I even made you breakfast. It's simple, but... there'd be no point to giving you a day off if you had to cook for yourself. I was going to take it upstairs if you didn't come down soon."

Leon made him breakfast...?

Every time he thinks he can't possibly get any more besotted with this man, the world keeps proving him wrong. Leon's impossibly suited to this peaceful domesticity. Those scarred hands and arms are the only indication that he was raised and trained for a different life entirely.

He's come so far, he really has. No stress creases his brow or suppresses his smile. No more air of anticipation waiting for orders to be given. Leon even commandeered the kitchen all on his own, without asking Piers' permission first, which is the biggest sign yet that the former prince has truly settled in, comfortable as one of the masters of this house. And the way Leon chose to exercise that control was by cooking Piers breakfast and cleaning the house so he wouldn't have to. Always so selfless, how in the world could anyone attempt to control this man and force him to fight against his will and not feel like a complete monster?

Piers doesn't notice the hand held out for him until it's already in his space. He happily takes it. Sword-born calluses graze his palm, and a hard thumb brushes along his knuckles. He's led towards the modest kitchen despite the guidance being unnecessary. Any excuse to hold hands with his darling is valid in his book.

"You even cleaned up after cookin'," he notes. Only a surprisingly fresh scent in the air alludes that cooking took place. Doesn't smell like any breakfast he's familiar with.

"Of course!" Leon squeezes his hand. "I told you, I'm taking care of everything."

Ever a gentleman, Leon pulls his chair out for him and scoots it back in with perfect timing as he sits. Reminds him a bit of a date... If only it were late in the evening and they had candles, and the summer fireflies were visible out the windows... This here is just as romantic.

"I hope you like it." A laden plate sets down in front of him, chock full of the same ingredients Piers would have used if he were to make breakfast for them both, but prepared in a completely different way.

"This is, ah, a Rhondeland style breakfast, or what I could make that's closest to it. It's what I know how to make best. Cooking isn't my strong suit, but my skills have improved from helping you every day, so I hope you like it!"

"It looks lovely." That's the truth. "Have you already eaten?"

Leon gives the smallest of starts. Like he realized he forgot something. Of all the... For someone so thoughtful, he's so forgetful of the basics! Take care of yourself, Lee!

"Leon," he gently scolds. "I ain't eatin' if you ain't. Come on, sit down. No, not there." Piers smirks and rises from where he sat, and points down at the empty space. "Join me right here."

"But there isn't enough room for— _oh._ " Leon's face tinges red. "I... I see. Yes! Um. I'd love to."

Piers feels far too much like a cat who snatched undeserved cream while Leon neatly seats himself down, even moreso when he claims his new perch, sitting perpendicular across a perfect lap. Leon's thighs are thicker than Raihan's, and just a touch more plush. Makes for a wonderfully comfortable seat. Piers takes his time getting settled, shifting this way and that more for show than anything. Leon's determined face is already wildly attractive, but determination in the face of a blush is just wildly delightful. Sweetheart is trying so hard to not be too affected, and it's Piers' duty to help the poor man test his limits. Raihan should be gone a while longer, so why not indulge? He's got this treasure all to himself for now. Sharing can come later, once everything is out in the open.

He takes the plate and fork and holds it in his own lap, stabbing some rasher and lifting the meat to Leon's lips. They don't open.

Piers pouts. "Not gonna say _ahh_ for me?"

The ruddiness to Leon's cheeks deepens, counterbalanced by brows furrowed even sterner. "I want you to have the first bite. I made it for you, so you should have it."

Chivalrous to the end. Piers masks how his heart flutters with a delicate sigh, and makes sure Leon can watch him slip the still-steaming meat into his mouth. His eyes widen in surprise, and a sturdy arm wraps around his lower back.

"Do you like it?"

Piers hastens to chew and swallow, the foreign balance of herbs overwhelming his tongue. Rhondeland likes its food tangy, it seems. Leon must have found the citrus jam in the cellar, too, he can see some spread on the toast. It's punchy, strong, and definitely good at waking people up.

"Never had anythin' like it." He smiles and Leon's posture straightens with pride. "This is wonderful, love, thank you. I should put ye in charge of the kitchen some days."

The fork is tugged out of his hand, and the plate is momentarily pressed into his lap as Leon segments a different piece of something. Aw, he wanted the chance to feed Leon himself.

"Here! Open up!" Leon holds the fork up to his lips, eyes bright and practically sparkling in the morning light, and, distracted, Piers mindlessly obeys. He doesn't realize until he's already melting from the flavor. This cheat! He _hm!_ 's in protest and plucks the fork back to himself with an admonishing glare.

"Oh no you don't, we're sharin' this. _You_ open up. Two fer two."

To keep Leon distracted from the fact that he's being fed bigger pieces than what Piers is eating, Piers ups his flirtation game. A swipe of a thumb along a missed crumb on Lee's mouth, a little lick over a rough thumb that got jam on it... Alright, lots of little licks. Can't let food go to waste, after all. Especially not food made this lovingly.

Between two adults, the plate doesn't last long at all. There's a solution to that, one that Piers promptly serves as a casual suggestion while tracing over Leon's sharp jaw.

_Let's cook another plate together. Show me how you made that, I wanna learn._

Despite being on their feet, they aren't any farther apart as they move about the kitchen. Piers takes great pleasure in being glued to Leon's hip as he chats through the impromptu cooking lesson, and even greater pleasure in the way Leon's instruction stumbles with every casual caress and rub.

It might be a little cruel to be such a distraction while Leon's trying to teach him something, but Piers is following along just fine. He just can't resist temptation when it's literally within arm's reach. When the dragon's away, the humans will play.

Piers presses back against Leon's chest as the heavy cast iron pan sizzles with fat on the flat rack low above the coals, the air filled with more scent of citrus held _just_ this side of becoming burned. It's a delicate balance, one that Leon manages with concentration and skill, the long two-pronged fork wielded in one hand to manage the meat while the other is wrapped securely around his waist. Rather unpleasant to be this close to the heat while the summer morning advances outside, but as long as he gets to stand here, pressed against and held by someone he loves, he'll tolerate fire, ice, rain, or storm, hated thunder be damned.

He wants so badly to have this in front of Raihan as well, but they can't, yet. Piers promised to get _the problem_ out of the way first, and he still plans on doing that! In the meantime, this shared love has to stay a secret, and if there's one thing Piers is good at, it's indulging in secrets.

Just one little word, one little conversation, and then they can all progress towards their threefold happily-ever-after.

Everything will work out in the end. It must. He's managed to hold himself back from spelunking down dark crevices of thought, where only doom and anxiety for the future await him. Leon's smiles and support hold him back from that edge. He won't call it optimism, because that would just be a betrayal of his own natural character, but rather an avoidance of his usual pessimism. It's close enough.

Piers' head turns before the wind even rattles the door, and he snatches himself away before Raihan can burst in and catch them like this.

Burst Raihan does. The door kicks open and in squeezes a dragon carting a massive basket, calling his greetings and aiming straight for his lover. Rather, one of his lovers.

"Hey, you're downstairs!"

"Couldn't stay holed up there forever."

Piers stands on his toes, Raihan leans down, and he gives his dragon a peck on the cheek. Raihan nuzzles for more, and more is freely given.

"Brought back some new stuff. No idea what some of these vegetable things are, but I hope you two like them."

"Oh, let me get that!" Leon draws away from the pan to take the heavy basket, arms flexing attractively under its weight, and Piers knows he isn't the only one staring.

The instant Raihan's arms are freed, the dragon slinks forth and wraps around him in a proper embrace, tail coiling around his leg as long arms fold around his waist. Raihan inhales close to his neck and must enjoy whatever he smells, because he's firmly squeezed while a low hum thrums all around him.

"You two having fun this morning?"

Piers smiles and presses his face into Raihan's shoulder. "More than you know."

"Aw. You two are so cute together." Sharp teeth nibble the shell of his ear. "Mmm, smell so nice, too. Love that."

"Sure it ain't from our cookin'?"

"Nah, it's all you two. Blends so well."

He playfully pushes at Raihan's chest. "I'm sure if I had your nose I'd enjoy the finer notes of whatever you and him have goin' on."

Oblivious to their hushed banter, Leon is elbow-deep in the basket, extricating one goodie after another with wonder all over his face. The way he's marveling over that vegetable, you'd think he's never seen an aubergine before. Actually, not an outlandish hypothesis. Leon's probably had some cut and prepared and cooked but never beheld a raw one in his entire sheltered life until now.

Raihan snickers and loosens his hold. "Don't think you need a keen nose to notice your food's burning."

Oh, shite, the pan!

Piers dashes to where the contents of the pan have started to barely smoke into the chimney. He drags the cast iron across the metal grate to the side without live coals underneath, and frantically waves to cool it faster. This needs to come off the pan _now._

"Leon, little help!"

"Ah! Sorry!"

Without a trace of sympathy, Raihan belts out a laugh while round two of breakfast is saved from a scorching. "You need to eat things raw like me, saves you all the trouble!"

"Pretty sure we'd die shovin' raw boar down our gullets." He passes Leon the plate and can only relax once everything is safely transferred. Sure helps when you've got forearms that thick to lift iron pans like they're porcelain instead. "So no thank you."

"You're missing out. Blood tastes best fresh out the animal." Raihan makes a show of licking his lips. "Can still taste all that _life._ "

Eurgh. Piers wrinkles his nose and directs Leon to sit at the table to eat the second half of his breakfast. Leon tries to protest, but there's no arguing this, sit and eat!

"Sorry our weak human stomachs prevent us from appreciatin' uncooked meat. If we want fresh, we're happy to eat our fruits 'n vegetables. Why don't you try one of those from time to time? It'll be good for ya."

Raihan balks. "Nnno thanks."

"Aw, what's a wee carrot to a big strong dragon? Think ya can't handle it?"

"I'm not eating a root!"

"Thought you dragons were omnivorous." He rolls his eyes and meanders to the already-cut loaf of bread, sawing off a thick slice for himself.

"We _can_ be. It's personal choice, and you know I prefer eating meat."

"I recall that old friend o' yours was able to get ya to eat yer vegetables."

Raihan sputters, and Piers stuffs a crust of buttered bread into his smirking mouth. "That's different! We were in his territory, it's polite to follow another dragon's rules while in their territory." He trails into a mumble. "Kabu's the only dragon who can tell me what to do, anyways."

Pleasant memories. Piers chuckles and leans against the polished wooden table where all the prep work took place. "Aye, I recall him puttin' ya in yer place after he dragged us away from trouble. Scolded you proper, made ya look like a hatchlin' in time-out."

Large wings fold as tight as possible while their owner groans in embarrassment. "You're saying that in front of Leon on purpose."

"Why would I do that?" he innocently asks, already admiring Lee's amazed reaction.

"To make me look less cool."

He hides a laugh behind his hand and stalls on answering by tucking the last of his bread away. "Maybe I am. Is it workin'?"

They both turn fully to Leon, who's already devoured exactly half the plate. ...Half? Piers shakes his head affectionately and gestures that he doesn't need any saved for him. Leon should know by now he's got a small stomach. Go ahead, love.

"Don't worry, Raihan, you're still just as cool!" Leon grins and after a final glance towards Piers— _are you sure I can have the rest?_ —to which Piers dramatically twirls his wrist in a _yes, it's all yours,_ Leon starts cutting into the rest of the food. "I didn't know you were friends with other dragons!"

"Eh, 'friends' is pushing it." Raihan shrugs. "We naturally spread ourselves out. Do way better work taking care of the land if we're not all clustered in one place. More efficient that way, you know? But I am on good terms with a few. Kabu, though... he's special."

Large golden eyes glitter with curiosity, and Piers takes a moment to focus instead on how Raihan's looking at them. Easy smile, warm and fond. Tail curling in a way that means he's content. Oh, yes, Rai's in love with his latest acquired possession. How did he never notice it before?

"I first met the old salamander when I was a lot younger. Less experienced. Way less responsible. He taught me a lot about how to be a proper dragon."

"And he made ya eat your veggies," Piers adds.

"Yes," Raihan dramatically sighs, "that too. Granted, those fermented things those villagers gave him were pretty tasty."

"Gave... This Kabu was on good terms with humans?"

"Good terms? Sunbeam, they practically _worshipped_ him! Treated him like some local god, had a yearly festival in his honor and paid tribute with their seasonal harvests and everything. The part I'm most amazed about is how Kabu manages to stay so humble." Raihan crosses his arms and pouts. "Those people really know how to pay proper respects to us. There's hardly anyone around these lands who treat us right. Taking all our hard work for granted."

"Aw, love, you've got at least two people right here who appreciate ya." And he knows that Milo isn't scared; Raihan's said as much that the farmer doesn't fear him.

"That's right! Your hard work doesn't go unnoticed, Rai!"

Raihan's tail coils around nothing, and he bashfully rubs the back of his neck. "You two alone make it hard to stay humble."

"Since when have you been humble. Even without flyin', yer head scrapes the sky it's so inflated."

"Excuse you, I've got a lot to be proud of."

Piers lightly laughs and pushes away from the prep table, organizing all the disturbed ingredients, resealing jars, wiping the knife clean and dusting away any crumbs. "So do I, bein' your partner. I don't mind remindin' ya of how great ya are from time to time. The praise is quite deserved."

"See! Leon, look at that, he calls me out for having an ego only to stroke it even bigger."

"No idea what you're talkin' about."

Leon giggles and Piers smiles at the sound, hidden while his back is turned and his hands are busy. This is the sort of life he's always wanted. Surrounded by loved ones, no political strife, no death on their heels or trying to escape from those who don't understand them. Everything's almost perfect. Almost.

_You're all right here. Mood's uplifted, nobody's hungry... Perfect chance to get this done._

"Oh! No, Piers, I told you I would take care of cleaning today!" A chair scrapes along the floor. "You need to relax!"

"Sorry, babe, there's no stopping him when he's in a housekeeping mood." Raihan holds his chin and appraises Piers from head to toe. "Come to think of it, he really fits the strange human concept of a wife, doesn't he."

It's like the universe aligned just for this.

From across the room, standing mid-stride from where he got up, Leon sends him a flicker of a concerned glance that he brushes off like dust. No need to worry, everything will be just fine... With Leon at his side, he can do what needs to be done. All up to him to have the stones to initiate.

"You wish I was your wife," he retorts. He tosses the rag aside onto the cleaned table.

"Could be something better." Raihan's grinning as if it were a casual joke, but it's far, far more than just that.

Right now, rather than being ominous portent or source of hidden stress, all the message is is an open door. Piers shares another look with Leon, and receives an encouraging nod that carries all of Leon's strength and support. The final blessing.

One last breath to mark this step over the line. Here goes.

Piers faces his partner square, steady as he'll ever get.

"Actually, love... There's somethin' I need to talk to you about. Regardin' just that."

* * *

The full breadth of Raihan's attention condenses into a single, talon-sharp point, right onto the man who just implied the one thing he's been waiting to hear for a long, long time. Forget the farmer, forget his mentor, hell, forget Leon for now. There's only room for one person in his mind.

There's only one thing Piers could mean, and it already takes his breath away, snatches it right to the sky.

"You want to talk about—about mateship?" he asks, hope shining through a growing smile.

Piers nods, and today just became the best day of his life so far.

Patience really does pay off. Months and months of anticipation, finally about to be over! He'd sweep Piers into his arms right now if he didn't want to hear the acceptance uninterrupted.

The cottage is too tiny to contain his glee, so he contains it himself, wrapping it up in a bright little bundle to hold close to his chest. A premature celebration would only get in the way of hearing what he wants to hear. Play it cool, Raihan, play it cool! He knew his mate would come around eventually!

He's dreamed and daydreamed about this moment, in every variation possible. Countless permutations of Piers saying yes. Softly, during a lazy cuddly morning. Casually while on a stroll. Or gently broached in private, tucked away in the dark woods. Or gasped during an intense round of lovemaking, _please, Rai, mate me!_ To hear it over breakfast is a surprise! With Leon present, no less.

He's glad that Leon is here. Let him witness this final step in elevating their relationship. Piers will say yes, and they'll establish where and when they want to attempt the bite and ritual. Raihan has no doubts that he'll succeed; his magic power is strong, bound to overcome Piers' natural resistance and embed the magic into his mate-to-be, stitch the bond into Piers' very soul. He's ready to step up to the challenge. Has been for over half a year now.

Piers shuffles closer, and comes to a stop nearby Leon. Could be closer, but ah well. Raihan flares and refolds his wings. Presents himself attentive and ready to hear the words he always knew would come.

"Well? What have you got to say about it, baby? I'm listening."

He said that impressively calmly, but on the inside he swears he's going to explode right out of his scales. Come on, come _on,_ say it! Seal the deal! Here it comes!

Piers' mouth moves, but the words glide right over his sense of hearing.

That was weird. Where was the yes? Maybe his ears randomly stopped working for a moment because he was anticipating too hard. Wouldn't be the first time strong emotions got in the way of processing the real world.

"Sorry, could you repeat that?"

Piers falters. Odd that for someone about to deliver joyful news, he seems so on edge. Must be the nerves. It's a big life milestone, after all.

"I said that..."

Again, it happens. Those lips he's kissed a million times frame themselves around words he really should be able to recognize, but for some reason he can't hear them. He knows his ears are working, he caught the first half, so why can't he hear the...

Raihan's smile hollows and he gives it one more try. "Piers, you... don't you want to be my mate?"

The look Piers gives him can only be categorized as pity. Some distant corner of his world fractures under the weight of it. Comprehension pries its way through the cracks, and claws his eyes and ears open enough that he finally recognizes the words falling from his treasure's mouth.

"No, love."

If _no_ were a spearhead, then _love_ would be the shaft.

The warmth in his chest suddenly has nowhere to go. Pointless now, speared through by rejection, it collapses in on itself, bleeding away until there's naught but an empty shell encasing the space around his heart. Behind him, some strange void yawns, like if he were to take a single step backwards he'd fall and fall with no air for his wings to catch.

He swallows and struggles to speak, wings drawing closer to his body.

"What do you mean, no? Is that—That's some kind of joke, right?" His chuckle is fake and strained. "You're just messing with me, right baby?"

Piers shakes his head, and whatever foundations kept him steady are knocked loose with every sympathetic swing. The remnants of the smile plastered onto Raihan's face crumble away.

Piers saying no means there's something Raihan hasn't done right in order to make him say yes. Something that he lacks. But that's impossible, Piers has always approved of every gift and offering and demonstration of strength and resourcefulness and reliability he's put forth. Raihan's been nothing but the perfect mate candidate. The highest quality protector and provider and lover in the world. They've been through so much together, so much hardship and danger and always pulled through, always, because they had each other! He's had Piers' back every time, just like Piers had his. They're partners, who've layered promise over promise around their bond, forging it strong and eternal. Mates in all but formality!

How could his love say no to him? Is he really missing something that Piers needs? Perhaps... something that he lacks, that Leon doesn't? Is that why Piers wanted someone new to be brought into their relationship? That—That can't be. Raihan already came to terms with the concept of different people providing different things to each other, but... to think that at his core, he might not be good enough to be Piers' mate _at all_...

One of those most hated feelings simmers cold in his gut. Insecurity. It taints his throat, reduces him to sounding weak.

"Piers, I... Am I not enough for you? Is that it?"

Piers' expression cracks further. "No! Raihan, I love ya, truly I do, you're everythin' I could want in a partner."

He tears his eyes away, wings hunched and tail twisting around his own ankle.

"But not in a mate."

Piers hesitates, and that just twists the knife. Digs it impossibly deeper. "That's... That's different."

When he looks back up, Piers is shifting in place, hand clutched around that precious locket for strength. Such vulnerability shown, no trace of the politically calculating prince that's so good at weaving words strong as magic, projecting whatever he wants others to see in him. Only a weak, uncomfortable human.

"How is it different?" he blurts, desperate. "If I'm really enough for you, why say no? You're already mine, Piers, what's so bad about making that permanent? If I'm enough for you as a mate, then—why—I don't understand..."

He's grasping for purchase with all the effectiveness of trying to snatch bubbles underwater. He needs the air, needs the hope, but they dance and split and spiral through his fingers, racing away to the surface and leaving him listless in the deep.

"Rai... You've said before, I'm yours because I _choose_ to be. I can stop bein' yours anytime I will it, and the fact that I can keep on decidin' t'be yours makes all this so special." Piers pulls on the delicate chain. "Mateship means there is no more choice. I'd be robbed of the option to wake up every mornin' and reaffirm that this is everythin' I want. Permanent means... it means locked in."

No... no, no, there's too many things that are wrong there, feel so wrong. It's true that Piers could decide to leave whenever he wanted, but—they're so committed to each other, why would Piers need the option to run away! Why does Piers want that avenue open when it's never going to be crossed? When they both know it'll never be crossed?

Piers wraps his hands around his own arms, a tight hug protecting against nothing physical. Raihan wants to cross the room to him, gather Piers in his arms and use him as an anchor while simultaneously soothing him, but Raihan doesn't think his legs are capable of moving. Unlocking his knees would mean collapse. Everything's so unstable, unsteady, he doesn't know where his place is anymore.

"Piers, I don't get it. Are you—" This hurts to say, as bad as ripping scales out from their roots, but he needs to clear this new fear away. "You're not planning on leaving me someday, are you?"

_Please no, stay by my side, I need you forever. Want you to be mine forever._

"No! I wouldn't want to leave! Never!" The whistle-high pitch says Piers finds the idea repulsive, which gives him a precipice of hope to cling to. "It's not about whether or not I actually will leave, it's about—it's about knowin' I'd be able to if I wanted. I don't want to, would _never_ want to, Rai, but havin' the option is what's important to me."

Raihan's throat constricts. "You want an out, is what you mean."

"What? Raihan, no, I—"

"Then what is it?" he pleads.

Piers' expression shadows with pain. "I just... I cannae be locked up. You know I can't take it."

Locked up... like what his father did to him. Locked the lovely prince away in a tower, far from where anyone could find him. Isolated, lonely, desperate and depressed and angry at his own powerlessness. Raihan would never do the same to him, he's no jailor, he _released_ Piers from that life! Gave him freedom!

"But I'm not putting you in a cage. Mateship isn't like that, I've explained it to you, what it means to us dragons. What it would mean to me."

"Just 'cause there's no bars don't mean it ain't a cage!" The cry pierces through him.

Is Piers saying that being mated to him would be the same as being locked up...? That Raihan would only be a shackle? A frail laugh of denial flutters from his chest. That can't be. That's impossible. Raihan's given him nothing but the world...

"I'd never do that to you. To be mine is to be free, you knew that from the very day we first met." Raihan reaches out, as if the distance between them could vanish just because he wills it. "If you were my mate, your freedom would be forever, nobody could take it from you for as long as I'm alive to protect you."

"I know," Piers weakly says. "But..."

"But _what?_ If there's something you fear, tell me, so I can prove to you that you're safe. That you've always been safe. There's nothing to fear about being my mate, I swear it, I swear on every god I know and all the ones I haven't met yet. Please, baby. Tell me why you think you can't be mine so we can fix it together. Whatever it is, I promise I can handle it. I'd do anything for you if it means having you as my mate."

Piers rallies a burst of confidence. "I- I don't want to enter somethin' one-sided," he stammers. "You're a dragon and I'm not, it'd be—we wouldn't have the same thing both ways, would we?"

"What? That's what you're worried about? Piers, we're already in a relationship between two different species! So much about us is already mismatched and _this_ is the one thing you chose to let bother you? The one thing that matters most to me. Why?"

No answer comes. Piers only bites his lip and worries at his necklace, eyes darting at various spots on the floor without looking at anything in particular, a tell Raihan knows to mean that Piers is trying desperately to come up with something to say, or wrangle his thoughts into a neat delivery that's the least likely to hurt. Kind of late for that, isn't it?

None of this makes sense. He can't think of a single valid reason why Piers is saying no to him. Wanting the freedom to leave at any time, that's pointless, and unfair to him as a committed partner. A one-sided mateship? Yes it's not ideal, but they are and always have been an odd pair. Dragon and human aren't meant to couple to begin with. What's wrong with taking their unnatural relationship as far as it can go, embracing their differences and not letting anything stop them from achieving what they want together?

A stressed growl leaves him and he presses the heel of a hand against a temple, claws scratching his own skin over his skull. Simple pain is a clarity of its own, one that he hopes will penetrate his skull to clear his thoughts. He had such rock solid expectations about his future, _their_ future, all reduced to rubble beneath his feet and made more unstable with every exchange. Surety, gone, confidence, demolished. Where is he supposed to go, who will he become, if Piers isn't his mate alongside him? Are they supposed to stagnate like this? How can he accept this, nothing about this is right...

The spool of magic inside his core shivers, wanting to unravel and change something about the world in reaction to the confusion ravaging his head. The air gains a charge that prickles soothingly over his skin and scales. Dangerous indoors. House made of wood. Can't risk anything.

He... he needs his treasure. Needs to hold him close so he can calm down. He can't lose it indoors. Piers could get hurt.

Raihan forces his legs from deadlock and takes an unsteady step closer. Piers doesn't back away, accepting his approach, arms lowering from their crossed guard over his chest. Always a good lover to him, always knowing what he needs. They're perfect for each other, need each other, fulfill each other, and yet, and yet, and _yet..._

A wounded sound leaves him. He lurches even closer, not bothering to smother the frustration twisting his expression. His eyes lift from Piers' empty neck to the sea-deep eyes so good at cradling him.

Before he can even cross halfway, something blocks his way. A body, tense and broad.

He forgot Leon was even here, so stressed was he. Stressed is he still, path impeded, arms empty, heart full of spreading cracks whose source and cure stem from one person, and that person is _not_ Leon. Leon has nothing to do with this.

"It's okay, Raihan." Those arms are spread, palms out, indicating no threat even as they obstruct him from what he so desperately needs right now. "Just because Piers doesn't want to be your mate doesn't mean anything is changing for the worse. This is a good thing in the long run! He and I talked about this before, trust me when I say it'll be okay."

The sounds of the world blur over. All he hears is the subtle implication that someone other than him, other than Piers, knew that this was coming.

The sway of the world comes to a halt, the ground steady once more. His tail scrapes along it to test, and he grabs hold of this small new balance centered around the third of all this.

"You two... talked?" he quietly asks.

Relief paints across Leon's face, and he takes another step towards the dragon. "Yes. He and I talked about everything. It was a while ago, he came to me wanting advice—"

Piers stiffens straight just as Raihan's own body goes rigid. Piers grabs Leon's shoulder from behind, harshly enough to interrupt. "I need you to stay out of this, Leon," Piers mutters, and tightens his grip, attempting to pull the man back and out of the way. He might as well try to uproot an oak.

"Stay out? But I promised I'd be here for y—"

Piers hisses at Leon to stay _quiet._ "I asked for yer presence, not interference! Stay. Out of it. Please, Lee, trust me, I'll be fine on me own..."

One word looms over the rest.

_Interference._

Certain pieces fall into place, and Raihan allows the realization to wash over him in a sickly, viscous tide.

Leon interfered.

Leon talked to Piers about dragon mateship. Gave him _advice._ Guided his choice. Inserted his opinion—ignorant and unneeded and foreign and _intrusive_ —into Piers' own natural development. A natural no would be one thing, something Raihan would be forced to accept no matter how much he hated it, but this, _this,_ a _tainted_ decision, a _manipulated no._ Unacceptable as truth. Raihan can't heed words that aren't his mate's true feelings.

It all makes simple sense now. All that disorientation, blasted away to leave one single path towards the truth.

Leon's the reason Piers is saying no. It's his fault, it has to be all Leon's fault that Piers is trying to reject him.

(Because if it isn't... What does that leave?

He's terrified to consider the alternatives. That Piers doesn't want him as much as he thought, enough that he allowed himself to be swayed away from a lifelong symbol of love and trust. That he failed to be what Piers needs. That he might be harmful to the man he values more than anything else in this world.)

The buzz of riled magic eases and disperses, most of it returning to settle around his core. Yes... Of course Piers wouldn't reject mateship naturally. All this must be the doing of the knight. How fucking noble. Only doing his duty to crush the dragon's desires and keep the monster away from its poor human captive.

Raihan gladly trades all the confusion and hurt for something that burns for a different reason. One that aims outward, not inward, but sears him all the same.

The world is always easier to navigate when one knows exactly what must be conquered in order to reach your goals.

He interrupts whatever needless argument is happening between _his_ mate and this intruder. It doesn't matter what they're saying to each other. All that matters is that there is a threat to his and Piers' happiness, one that's worked insidiously under his nose this whole time.

"You..." Raihan rumbles low and dangerous, thunder on the horizon. "You convinced him to say no to me. Didn't you."

He takes one step closer, wings flexing and tail lashing, eyes pinned on the one who incited this disaster. Before he can get any closer, Piers thrusts himself in front of the knight. Yet another obstacle? Now _Piers_ is in his way? He can hardly appreciate the irony.

"Leave Lee out of this," Piers tries to demand, but the effect is tarnished by the tremor in his voice. "This is between you and me, Raihan."

"Really. I think it has everything to do with him." His lip curls, teeth bared in open displeasure. "He made you say no to me. Don't try to pretend otherwise."

"You think I of all people could be manipulated? Rai, he helped me realize—"

"He affected your decision!" he snarls.

"No! He _helped_ me, Raihan!"

For someone who wants to leave Leon out of this, Piers sure is taking his side an awful lot.

Raihan's tail lashes, the tip audibly slicing the air. "There's no need to defend him, Piers. Let the big strong _knight_ speak for himself." He spits the poisonous word.

Leon touches his Piers on the shoulder and Raihan bristles with a surge of possessiveness— _mine mine mine don't touch him get away from him he's not yours he belongs to me—_

"It's okay, Piers." They share a look and something unsaid passes between them. Worry, understanding. Affection. Raihan wants to shove that knight away. Break that connection, that dangerous thread that led Piers so astray. "I can handle myself."

Raihan's eyes narrow as Leon takes a daring step forward. Bold human. Bold, foolish, _greedy_ human. Leon wants to block him from his mate, well, nothing can keep him and Piers apart. Not even the selfishness of a man they both love.

And that's why this stings so much. He thought he could trust Leon. Ally and friend and treasure and lover. Dearest sunshine, sweetheart Lee. Second human he's ever loved and the last person Raihan would expect to defile his happiness. Maybe he should assume the best, that Leon didn't know what he was doing when he tempted Piers away from the correct choice, but the clarity in Leon's golden eyes speak only of no regrets.

Something nags in the back of Raihan's mind. A pluck, a twang, so subtle as to be the struggle of a dying gnat in a spider's web. Raihan shoves the distraction aside, buries it under the building cascade of betrayal-backed fury coursing through his body. Compared to the pressing matter of the traitor before him, nothing else matters.

"You said, all this time, that you didn't ever want to come between us. Was that a lie? Because that's what you're doing right _fucking_ now, Leon! You're wanting to get between us! Do you not want us to be happy together?" The edges of his vision darken, and his voice drops low. "Do you want him all to yourself?"

"You know that's not true." Infuriating calm. Again with the raised hands, like he's some dumb, mindless beast that needs pacifying. "Calm down, listen to yourself."

"Don't tell me to listen, I'm not fucking deaf!"

"Then hear me when I say that all I want is for you two to be happy!"

"You're a liar!" he snarls, chest wrenching as if someone had their hand inside him to rip his heart straight out. "This is all your fault! You wanted him to reject me. You wanted this to happen!"

"Because it's what's best for Piers! You both mean so much to me, Raihan, I swear this wasn't meant to ruin anything. I'd never get between you two."

No. No, no. Leon's a hypocrite. Hypocrite and liar. This is all Leon's fault, he _admitted_ to wanting Piers to say no. Didn't deny it, didn't flinch... and is still standing between the dragon and his rightful mate.

"Yet here you are," he says with a softness reflected nowhere on his face. "Getting in _my_ way."

He glances to Piers, anxious and tense behind Leon, all alone back there, kept apart from him by the oh-so-noble champion.

Leon squares his shoulders and upticks his chin. "I stand in the way of nothing you have a right to."

An affronted snarl rattles deep in his chest. Raihan's hands spread and tense, claws itching to lengthen in the face of such an offense. Another ominous tug on his senses beckons him to pay attention elsewhere. He shoves it away almost physically, shaking his head with a venomous hiss.

The knight drops lower, and his arm twitches towards his opposite hip in a way that any well-traveled _monster_ can recognize. The only difference here is that muscle memory is futile when there's no sword to draw. Leon's hand catches itself and flexes into a tight fist, tendons strung prominent over broad knuckles. Along the floor, Leon's foot subtly slides back.

He recognizes that stance. Leon taught it to him. Defense, meant for a swift counterattack. Leon expects an attack... So he wants to fucking fight, is that it? Fight for what?

_For Piers._

Isn't that perfect. This is what the knight wanted all the way back when they first met. To save a treasure that didn't need saving. To separate the dragon from what he holds most dear.

Raihan's lip curls and he lowers his posture in response, wings angled nearly parallel to the floor as he naturally shifts to the balls of his feet. This display of self-righteous gallantry disgusts him. The next lash of his tail cuts a spray of wood splinters from the edge of whatever furniture was in the way. Leon doesn't flinch, and that only pisses him off even more.

"I thought you knew your place, little _knight,_ " he viciously gnarls. "Your job here is to help keep my treasure safe and happy, not poison his thoughts and make him think he should say no to the best decision he'll ever make. He's _my mate_ and there's nothing you can do to change that!"

"I've never stopped doing my job, Raihan. Not being your mate is what'll make Piers happy, and I always swore to protect him from anything and keep him safe." Leon's defensive stance shifts from subtle to blatant, and those golden eyes darken with a resolve Raihan hasn't seen in a long, long time. "If I have to, I'll even protect him from you."

A choked gasp comes from neither of them. "Lee, no—"

"I meant what I said, Piers. Stand back, this could get bad..."

Raihan barely spares his mate the glance, because every single one of his instincts rages to fight and tear and rend this challenger who stands between him and _his_ beloved to pieces. Bloody, unrecognizable pieces.

Piers hisses and tries to shoulder his way forward. "You'll not tell me to stay away from my—"

"Piers!" Leon sharply says. It's the harshest tone he's ever heard the knight take, the strength of the command rooting Piers to the spot against his will. "It's my duty to keep you out of harm's way. If Raihan won't listen to you, so be it. I'll take it from here."

His next breath scorches the air, hissed through fangs that ache in his gums to grow longer and sharper.

_He doesn't trust you to not hurt your mate. Thinks he can protect Piers better than you. Dares to speak for what YOUR MATE desires. It all makes sense now, the knight fell in love, you gave him permission to pursue, and now he thinks Piers is all his... He thinks he can take what's yours._

Damn humans... Greedy, ambitious, entitled, filthy _thieving humans._ They're all the same. All of them. Piers is the only one fit for him, the only human who understands a dragon's heart. The only one worthy of belonging to him, and the only one Raihan could ever give himself to. Nobody else. Nobody else is worth it.

"You don't get to speak for him. He's. Not. Yours," Raihan growls, death grating on the edges of the gutteral sound.

"Yes he is," Leon fires with just as much intensity, and Raihan nearly lunges for his throat on the spot. "I love him, Raihan, you know I do, and I know he loves me back! I'm his, and he's mine, is that the kind of language you'll listen to?"

Shock stalls his fury for an instant. They confessed to each other? When did they—When did that happen? Piers looks stung at the reveal, not surprised, not shocked, because he already knew, and the implication that they were keeping this development a secret from him—him, Raihan, who did nothing but pave their way towards each other supportive as can be—punches him where he didn't expect it to hurt.

Ignorant of his internal stagger, Leon forges on. "Piers doesn't want to be your mate. You need to accept that. Why won't you listen to what's right in front of you?"

He shakes off the manacle of painful distraction. So what if they finally confessed, that means nothing in face of this!

"I'm not going to listen to a traitor." His voice is ragged, shot through with bestial undertones that paint his throat black. "Piers deserves to be mine. Mine forever. He's already mine forever, all that's missing is my mark! Don't think you can get in our way!"

"If he's already yours forever, why do you need to bind him? Don't try to force him into a role he doesn't want, it isn't right!"

"I'm not the one forcing him to do anything! I gave him time, I gave him space, I was patient! I waited for him! I would have waited years, decades, for my treasure to say yes! To accept me! Be bonded to me!"

"He already accepts you, Raihan, that's the whole point!"

"Then why didn't he say _yes?_ " The roar rattles the cottage. Behind Leon, Piers flinches back. Raihan can't find it within himself to lower his voice, too distraught and lost in what should have been simple and easy and blissful. He fires his next question over Leon's shoulder. "Why, Piers? Why?"

Leon blocks his line of sight completely and Raihan's shoulders tense into steel.

"He already told you why! You're just not listening! Is it so fucking hard to listen to the person trying to tell you they're not happy? No wonder he was so reluctant to say anything!" Leon explodes. "Piers should have the opportunity to say no to whatever you want to make of him. I never had that!" That perfect stance breaks as Leon hits himself squarely on the center of his chest, a jagged line of anger finally marring that flawless face. "I was never allowed to say no! Not without crafting some bullshit reasoning that appealed to what my king considered acceptable! Honesty would get me nowhere! I will not allow you, of all people, to rob Piers of his chance to be honest with you!"

He almost wants to laugh. Leon wishes to speak of honesty? He's never robbed Piers of the ability to be honest! Piers can tell him anything, anytime! Why would this situation be any different if not for Leon sticking his nose into what's none of his business? Indignance boils in Raihan's chest, the seething heat of it spreading through every limb and setting every nerve alight. _Leon's_ the one preventing Piers from being honest, the meddling, selfish little...

Raihan's tail scrapes the floor. He doesn't realize he's been growling open menace until Leon sharply sighs right over it.

"We both love him, Raihan. We both want what's best for him. The only difference here is that... what you think is best is something Piers can't handle. And I know that must hurt, but you need to come to terms with it. For his sake."

For some reason, the gentled tone threatens him more than any shout has. Raihan's wings strain to stretch, make his silhouette bigger, more imposing, but he won't give in to an instinctive response that implies he feels cornered. He can't show any weakness. He wants to stay on top, stay angry, face a threat that's physically in front of him.

Before Raihan can hope to organize a rebuttal, another tug to his senses rips a frustrated rasp out of him. What the fuck is it? Can't he focus on one thing at a time? He finally turns to face the direction of the bother. There's nothing there! Anyone barging into his territory would have set off a much bigger fuss. There isn't even anything wrong with his border.

His gut tells him to double check.

"Let's try talki—"

"Shut the fuck up, Leon," he hisses. "For one fucking second."

_Or do me the favor and keep your mouth shut forever._

Raihan closes his eyes and hunches deeper, hand pressed to his head as he casts his attention across the natural magic that connects him to the land. Directly northeast is where the disturbances came from. Nothing stands out, no cut threads or loose ends. Every strand of magic is in place.

No... not in place. Something's wrong. Nothing was torn, but there's still the strangest gap in the—

Hole.

It's a hole.

Someone's made a hole in his border. Not a rip, no tear or gash. Someone snuck their clever little fingers into his construction and teased the threads apart to make a hole large enough for a person to slip through without damaging a single string.

"Someone's here," he grinds to himself, and lowers his hand. "Snuck right in. Bet they're already making their way deeper, fuck, just my _fucking_ luck!"

He needs to make this quick. Slaughter the intruder and get whatever stress relief he can out of it. They're not finished here, but he has a responsibility first and foremost to protect this place from any threat. He's loathe to leave his mate alone with _him,_ but Raihan has no damn choice. Better the enemy he knows than the one that he doesn't.

"You two. Don't leave this fucking spot. I'll take care of _you,_ " he sneers at Leon, "after I punish whoever _else_ is trying to get in my way. Understand me?"

Leon doesn't bat a single eye, but his throat bobs, and Raihan takes vicious pleasure in that betrayal of anxiety. _Good. Feel fear. Be reminded who's in charge of keeping you safe._ "Crystal clear."

"And Piers..." His tail lashes around his ankles when his mate meets his eyes around the body stationed between them. There's something wounded and fearful there, and his temper flares once more, a spray of lava that spatters him with more searing heat, more reason to burn. Without Leon, this conflict never would have happened. Piers would be wrapped safe in his arms, for a reassuring kiss and a playful _you better come back soon._

He can't think of anything to say to his mate, and he hates it. He thinks he hears his name, spoken so softly that it's only a low buzz through the dull roar in his ears.

He can't face Piers like this.

Raihan tears outside, nearly ripping the door from its hinges, and launches himself into the sky. His sharp ears detect the start of an argument below, one that he can't linger to witness. The roar of wind in his ears reflects the turbulence in his heart, and now that he's in the sky, away from the cramped cottage, away from who he thought was his best friend and away from the man he thought destined to be his mate, the hot iron bands clamped tight around his chest ease, and allow cold desperation to bubble to the surface.

It pushes him faster, faster, blazing over the massive treetops, unable to focus with his mind and heart still torn towards home. Leon took a dragon's trust and trampled it to pieces, and by leaving those two alone he'll no doubt trample it further, but what choice does he have right now? What choice?

The wind snatches away whatever wetness his eyes dare to leak. Tears of frustration, so much frustration, raking his insides and clawing pieces of himself into a knotted, unparseable heap. He furiously shakes his head and curses with a cracked voice unheard.

If only Leon never meddled with their perfect relationship, Piers could have been mated to him by now. Piers with the mark of forever-belonging, Raihan with the love of his life bound to his side.

If only their Lee weren't there this morning, he and Piers could have talked it out together, free of any outside influence whose selfish desires would sway the outcome he and his mate deserve. They can still fix this, can't they?

If only he never gave the knight the space and the comfort to grow so greedy. If only he never took the lost prince in to begin with. If only, _if only..._

Branches snap and leaves shred as Raihan plummets through the foliage, targeting the slender intruder spotted on the forest floor far below, and one final tendril of a better, lost future curls into the back of his mind.

_If only Leon weren't here to interfere at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you twitter friends for helping me name the goats!
> 
> Next chapter: Raihan's lowest.


	13. Should Have Known

It's not often that Oleana gets the opportunity to leave the confines of the palace, let alone the country's borders.

It's not that she's confined—she has the power to leave whenever she wishes—but responsibility and duty keep her bound to where she's needed, whether it's deep within the palace's magical research wing, coordinating logistics for Rhondeland's many projects, or overseeing the movement of important documents from subordinate to subordinate.

Rhondeland needs her, would be lesser without her, as its king tells her nearly every time he drops by to check on how she's doing. Rose might be a man with a butter-smooth tongue and every desire to make those around him feel special, valued, indispensable, but when you already know you're indispensable, such flattery is unnecessary, and carries no meaningful effects no matter how genuine the praise may be. If Rose were the slightest degree more unctuous his praise would twitch her eye.

Oleana knows Rose needs her. He needs her skills, her magic, her power and intellect, to help him achieve his goals. She is a devoted servant, one who has aligned her goals to that of their master's. She works not _for_ the king, but _with_ the king, enhancing his efforts as he enhances hers towards the goal of eternal betterment of their country. If it's for Rhondeland's sake, she has no issues doing whatever needs to be done.

Currently, that means fetching their errant prince from these uncivilized backwoods and delivering him back to the clean white stone of the royal palace.

Every village and settlement she passed as she ventured farther and farther away from Wyndonia's splendor is less impressive than the last. Nothing can compare to the glory of the royal capital, she knew, but still she curls her lip once exposed to shoddy cabins and messily thatched roofs and roads of uneven, cloddy dirt whose only consistency is the rut of wagon wheels. One day, it'll all be replaced with better things. Better housing, better roads... The people just need to be patient.

The chaos only gets worse after leaving Rhondeland's well-guarded borders. She takes to secrecy then, blending with the darkness of the shadows to slip unseen through the territory of neighboring kingdoms—weak, sniveling governments who rely on them for protection—and re-confirming with her own eyes that they are no threat to Rhondeland's greatness.

Less threatening still are the residents of the wild, unclaimed land beyond the skirt of several territories, given broad berth by the nearby lords thanks to the wizard who took up personal residence somewhere within these woods. She's heard of him before, of course. All skilled magic users do well to keep tabs on any others nearby, if only to know who to avoid angering. Oleana was never the sociable sort, but even she kept her ears open for updates.

At some point, months ago, the man vanished off whatever map might exist of these uncharted lands, only to have his position of terror be taken by a dragon. News she knew far in advance of Rose's investigations. She kept to herself that she already knew much of what Rose told her in that reconnaissance report, and merely nodded in acknowledgement as she was 'caught up to speed.'

One thing she was surprised to learn is that there are actually functional villages out here. Whole communities, eking out a meager existence outside of the domain of any lord or baron or king, risking proximity to something that could so easily wipe them from existence. The recklessness of some humans... People really never change, especially when formed into groups that only serve to compound stupidity.

Sad, close-minded places, these little villages are. Shunning that which they do not understand, careless and cruel towards whatever does not conform to their rigid views of what is safe and right. It's no mental burden to use her power to shift from shadow to shadow, avoiding any place where those dumb fools might see her and scream.

What a shift she's gone through, over life. From someone scorned to someone frightening. She used to beg for people to look at her, and now she's comfortable avoiding eyes entirely.

A flash of a child's memory beckons for her attention. Curled up and shivering in a dark corner, dirty hovel, salvaged rags covering her body less than the inky darkness embracing her. Legs passing by, none ever stopping.

She sheds the memory with a silent sigh. No use dwelling on the past. She knows where she belongs now. In the clean, pristine life granted to her by the one person who ever stopped and kneeled to look at her. The first to find her existence not reprehensible, but intriguing, worth investment. Useful. Helpful. Capable of so many wonders, if only given the right opportunities and resources.

For the sake of the one who pulled her out of the mud, dirty work is worth it. Adopting his goals was the least she could do for him, and it certainly helped that his dreams aligned with everything she could have hoped for as a child.

It is her life's duty to ensure her country becomes a place where no child ever goes through what she did. A utopia, rich and clean and able to provide for every citizen. No room for poverty or deaths through negligence. For that, Rhondeland needs strong leadership with strong ideals. A king willing to put their country first above all other things, and a prince capable of representing and demonstrating their country's greatness.

A king, to lead, a prince, to inspire, and to some day take up the crown with the support of every citizen raising them to greater heights than even Rose can achieve.

It'll be a criminal shame if the boy turns out to be dead. Out of every child Rose attempted to raise into a worthy successor, only Leon managed to meet and surpass expectations. For all his flaws, the boy is, undoubtedly, Rhondeland's best shot at a continued bright future. His training was harsh, as it had to be, but at times... too harsh. Which, coming from Oleana, is quite the high bar. She never involved herself directly with the boy, but being so close to Rose, with a hand in every project, meant that she became intimately familiar with the child known as Leon.

As with all other things, Rose entrusted her with organizing the boy's education once the vital period of selection had passed with all other candidates left to return to their homes. At first she only treated it like every other project, merely a duty to fulfill for the sake of the country's future, but after several months of paying more attention to the boy's growth, she noticed one of her greatest enemies amidst his upbringing.

Inefficiency. Thanks to, she knew, Rose's enthusiasm.

Her king doesn't lack a sense of realism, but in his fervor and passion to cultivate the perfect prince, his methods proved to be ignorant at times. So caught up in his thrilling project of future promise that he forgets humans need rest. Moments to breathe, before being shunted along to the next tutor or training session or monster subjugation quest.

Which is where Oleana stepped in. Well. Not _stepping_ so much as very slightly nudging with the toe of her boot from the shadows. Being responsible for the fine details of Leon's itinerary meant she could schedule lessons far enough away from each other physically that it justified the time allotted to get there, and what's an extra five minutes on top of a walk that should only take twenty? Enough to take a leisurely pace, and turn a brisk stride into a stroll. Vital for re-centering oneself before the next onslaught of education.

There's also the ways she advised for or against certain tutors whenever it came time to advance his lessons. She recognized when it would be beneficial, rather than detrimental, to hire someone a bit more laid back for the next round of education. One of her greatest accomplishments, that she kept to herself, was managing to convince that old swordmaster, a retired hero whose exploits are told as legends despite him still being alive and absurdly spry for his age, to take on a new pupil. She didn't even mind that his condition was to let the boy come to him, rather than uproot himself to travel to Wyndonia. Rose hemmed and hawed over allowing the boy to travel so far away from his immediate protection, but one suggestion from Oleana, that it would be good for the boy's growth to see more of Rhondeland's beautiful territory, and the king relented and allowed it.

Leon knows nothing of her subtle interferences, and she prefers it that way.

She does not care about the boy himself. She cares about his potential and growth. The things she does for his sake are meant to compensate for Rose's constant pressures, so that Leon can grow at the ideal rate. Without her, the king would have accidentally broken the child years ago, and what use is there in a prince whose insides are hollow? It would render the boy an ideal tool in the short term, but when it comes time for Leon to take up the crown, a lack of spirit and passion would only hurt their country. Rhondeland is better with a successor whose mind and spirit is left intact.

Her invisible kindnesses have nothing to do with how she empathizes with him. Only by the tiniest degree. They came from similar backgrounds. Both with no home to call their own, lost and without hope until Rose took them under his wing and gave them a place to belong. A purpose, a mission, the opportunity to contribute to something great.

That is the extent of their similarities. She bears no personal sentimentality towards him whatsoever.

Oleana infiltrates a particularly restless village, one that appears to be doing rather well for itself, at least within the relative scope of 'well' that poor folk can manage.

The village huddles near a river, one that eventually feeds into the great River Rhonde, as all rivers do, on this half of the continent. There are plenty of shadows for her to eavesdrop from, dark pools that welcome her to float within unseen, from the sides of tilted sheds to the thick, long trunk of a pole that stands tall in the center clearing, carvings of vines and flowers surprisingly refined as they wrap up the wood. Plenty of people pass by or mill about this central space, shedding gossip like dogs shed hair in this summer heat, and Oleana tucks herself deep within the black strip cast by the sun, and listens without ears to a pair of ragged, loitering men.

"Been a long time since anyone's passed through, wouldn't ya say?"

"Hmph. Maybe that damn dragon finally got tired of harassing us." One of them spits onto the ground, disgustingly close to where Oleana has hidden herself. She slides a little farther away, and if either man notices how one spot of the pole's shadow is blacker than the rest over the dirt, they give no indication of it.

"Naw, don't you remember? Last time a brave guy wandered through, the dragon dumped their corpse right where you're standing! Flew off with blood rainin' down from those big wicked claws. Morly's still got a stained roof."

"Don't try to frighten me, I ain't one of your children. Been here longer'n you, sheesh. Besides, that ain't true. There was that other guy. You weren't here for it, were ya? Off visitin' your ma?"

"Shit, really? I missed one? C'mon, tell me what that one was like!"

"Tch, god knows these knights blend together... It was the usual. Came runnin' through, askin' everyone where he could find the dragon, and as soon as someone pointed, he ran right off. But... he was a lot shinier than all the others before 'im, I recall."

"Shiny? Aren't all knights s'pposed to be shiny?"

"Well, yeah, but like, this one was insanely shiny. Armor, you know. Real fancy, practic'ly blindin'. Must've been some rich guy's son tryin' to prove himself, we've had a few of those before, 'member?"

"Oh. Yeah, you're right. Those guys never lasted long. Damn, wish I saw him though."

"You bet you wish! And his hair was all shiny, too. Styla said, she was the one to point him onwards the right way, by the way, Styla said he had the prettiest eyes she'd ever seen. Woulda fallen right in love with him had he not scurried right off!"

"Styla falls in love with any guy who looks her way, don't listen to her."

"No, but I'm tellin' you, apparently this guy was upright godly. Would've hoped he'd finally kill the beast, but, you know, definitely ended up just like the others. Eaten right up. Dragon must've found such a handsome thing tasty, to only dump the armor on us. Too burnt up to sell for much."

"Damn. Shame..."

"Ah well. Least he left his belongings with us, and you know, supplies are better used by the living! Remp got himself a real nice tinderbox, and Tillor needed a new blanket for her newborn which was perfect timin', and—"

"Alright, alright, I get it, I missed out! Quit smirkin' at me like that, I don't need to hear no more."

"Heh! Point is, been an awful long time since then. Wonder if the monster got tired of playin' his games."

"Or maybe we just ran outta people wantin' to challenge it?"

"Could be. Oh, fuckin' hell, what if it gets bored and starts attackin' us instead?"

"Pfhh, if that happens, it won't get us first. That shortstack farmer's closest by. It'll eat him before any of us. Gives us plenty of time to run."

Oleana stops listening. She's heard all she needs. Leon definitely passed through here and confronted the dragon. She'd wonder if he got lost between this village and the dragon's territory, if not for the confirmation that the beast personally delivered the scorched, ruined armor.

Eaten, they say. What a pathetic end for a young man with the potential to make his country greater than it ever was before.

Still... the gossip of idiots is by no means the end of her investigation. She needs better evidence. Ideally, a firsthand account from the monster himself, or bones to easily discern as the prince's.

She leaves the filthy village behind without looking back, flowing from shadow to shadow without anyone ever knowing she was there.

A farmer was mentioned, who lives closest to the beast. Someone the villagers seemed to not care about. Odd, given that farmers provide food. Logic dictates that they are to be respected by those who depend on them. Then again, none of these people seem very intelligent, and she knows for a fact that those who flee to these apolitical lands tend to be those with no place to call their own. Outlaws, refugees, wanted criminals, banding together to form their own little communities. It's astounding that they've managed to stabilize and live functional, collaborative lives.

Once a fair distance away, Oleana steps out from the shadow of a tree, tendrils of black clinging to her robes and bidding their farewells before releasing her entirely. A few slip into the depths of her cloak, joining her and integrating instantly with the rest.

She pulls her hood down. As much as she enjoys the embrace of the dark, strolls through the sunshine have their merits.

She spots a path that's barely more than grass slightly flatter than the rest, and follows it through the woods. A heavy summer breeze blows against her face, pushing at her hair and clothes. The midday would be sweltering if not for the inherent coolness of her unique magic swaddling her beneath her robes.

Oleana rounds a low, grassy hill, and spots the farm. A grimace curls her lip. Farms were never her favorite place. A home for dirty animals and things meant to be buried in muck before they can grow. Ideal for beasts and vegetables. Not so for humans.

She strides tall, heeled boots pressing into dark soil.

The farm she approaches must have all its fields on the opposite side of that little house. The building looks to be a touch sturdier than that of the shoddily organized village, one signifier of which is the person perched on the roof, the brim of a large hat obscuring the face of its wearer. The closer she gets, the straighter they lean, and some realization must have struck them, because they suddenly set down their tools and begin the scramble down.

It's a man, she assumes, based on that sturdy build. ...A very short man. If they weren't on the side of the world that they are, she'd wonder if they were some variant of dwarf instead.

"G'morning, miss!" The man clambers down and lands on the ground with a neat thud. He jogs up, hat held in place, and thankfully stops out of arm's reach of her. "I saw you comin', couldn't help but greet ya! Don't often get any visitors out here in the middle of nowhere. What can I do ya for?"

Oleana doesn't answer right away. She first takes a moment to inspect him.

As already noted, he's short, muscular, and broad. A large straw sunhat tops a freckled face, and sandwiched between both is a poofy mess of peachy hair. A stray piece—several stray pieces—of dry grass are stuck in the man's forelocks, and plenty of smudges of dirt and dust discolor his simple clothes.

He shifts under her scrutiny. "O-Oh, of course, forgot to introduce myself! I'm Milo, pleased to make your acquaintance, miss."

A large weathered hand thrusts forth, every crease darkened with grime. Short nails, so dirty as well. He doesn't seriously think she's going to touch that.

After another prolonged moment, the farmer, Milo, blushes beneath his freckles and lowers his hand, dusting his palm along his pants. Better, although all it accomplishes is more evenly distributing the ratio of dirt between hand and pant.

"Is this your property?" she asks, looking towards the house.

"Huh? Oh, yeah! This here's my family's farm. Well, just my farm, temporarily."

Beyond the house, she can glimpse the edges of large fields sprouting with greenery, and tucked behind the house, there's a smaller garden she failed to notice before. Smaller, but somehow bursting with even more vegetation. It's a healthy and well-managed area, she can tell.

She returns her gaze to him, brow lifted. "You live here alone?"

Milo pulls his hat off, hair springing up like cotton freed from an overstuffed bag. "Yeah. Just me. Used to live here with family, but they're out a ways for now. My younger brother's aimed to go to school, see, he's real smart, but too young to go alone so our Ma went with him, leavin' me to manage here by my lonesome. I get along just fine."

He has a habit of divulging more than is asked, doesn't he. A tad annoying (she's never liked chatterboxes), but it could be useful. She's here to investigate, not socialize, after all.

It's a relief that it seems she won't have to threaten or intimidate this man to get what she wants. Just like Rose, she prefers to handle things neatly whenever possible, although her king's patience is greater than hers when it comes to these things.

"You live rather close to the dragon's territory," she bluntly points out. "Does that not frighten you?"

To her surprise, the farmer laughs, a bright, full-chest sound that stabs at her ears. "Aw, him? Naw, the dragon don't bother anyone who don't bother him!"

So those villagers have nothing to worry about regarding random dragon attacks, not that she gives any damns about their futures.

"How can you say for sure, that he won't attack you at any moment?"

The farmer flusters. "O-Oh, ah, just a gut feelin'!"

Wonderful. Trusting one's gut is only good for warnings, omens, not optimism. The former keeps you safe; the latter leaves you vulnerable for misfortune.

"So if I were to explore the forest near his territory, I wouldn't be bothered."

Milo blanches.

"I wouldn't recommend gettin' _too_ close... Kind as he is, he don't take kindly to disturbances, and his body count is, ah..." Milo clears his throat, uncomfortable. "Bit high. But he only hurts people who don't heed all the warnin's! And you know what they say, when a fool is dead-set on walkin' into a wolf den, best to let the wolves have their dinner. Takes a fool to get in a fool's way. And you don't look to be any kind a' fool, miss, so I hope you don't plan on disturbin' those folk."

Her attention is caught by those two final words. _Those folk._ A second entity, at the least. Another dragon? Or the wizard who used to live where the dragon does now, not dead, but befriending or controlling a monster?

Or perhaps...

It wouldn't be impossible, for Leon to still be alive even after challenging a dragon. Dragons are vain, possessive creatures, guarding wealth and stealing land to crouch over and claim. They hoard land and valuables, and Leon, as far as human assets go, is a prize among prizes. The jewel of Rhondeland, Rose's greatest treasure. Perhaps the dragon laid eyes upon the champion and became smitten with his beauty and skill, and rather than eat him, stole him away, and forced the prince to shed all his defenses and weapons so he could be kept. But... if that were true, it's odd that only the armor was disposed of, and not the sword. She's heard nothing about Leon's sword turning up, and surely the dragon wouldn't allow his captive to keep their weapon...

At any rate. Foolish, lucky prince. Of all the cosmic luck to be had, of course it would be Leon who gets tangled in such a ridiculous situation. He _would_ be one to get kidnapped by a dragon, and of course it would fall to her to resolve this mess. If that's what happened, of course. She needs to investigate further.

Oleana resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. At least Rhondeland's prince might still be alive.

Her analysis only spanned a moment, and she's able to respond to Milo without lagging a beat.

"Does the dragon have company?" she smoothly queries. "I did overhear a rumor in the village..."

A probe, in the form of an open-ended phrase that could mean anything.

The hat slowly rotates within the farmer's hands, a wheel of woven straw pushed by fingertips that roll like a caterpillar's feet.

"Oh, I, I ain't one to indulge in rumors, miss." The hat lifts higher, turns faster. "But you know dragons. Always protective of what's theirs, no matter what they might be keepin' safe. Ain't my place to be curious about... about what things he's got."

This man obviously knows more than he's letting on. She ponders pushing for more, frightening the simple man with magic he'll no doubt recoil from, but she got what she needed. A direction, and a need to investigate the dragon's territory up close.

"Worry not. As long as I can obtain what I'm looking for, I'm not interested in causing unnecessary trouble. Or endangering myself."

The farmer's broad shoulders slump in relief, and that large hat plops back over his head.

"Good to hear! I was gettin' worried for a sec."

It's amusing how this short man assumes the best of her. Not a single suspicious bone in that body, is there? What an earnest, naive man.

"If what you're lookin' for is anything I can help find, I'd be more than happy to lend a hand. I know these parts pretty well, I'd say. I'd be happy to be your guide."

She waves off the offer. "You've done plenty. I doubt we'll see each other again, so goodbye."

"So soon?"

She pauses one step away from him, and makes the mistake of looking over her shoulder.

For the first time, she notices that the man's eyes are a brilliant green, large and disarming and hopeful. Don't tell her that this man will actually miss her. Worry about her. They've barely talked, and he doesn't even know her name.

Oleana dismisses the moment and turns away once more.

"Yes. I have only one reason to be out here, and once I have fulfilled it, I will leave. Farewell."

Just like all her travels before, she doesn't look back as she ventures forth. A quiet "Bye..." reaches her ears, and a lingering gaze rests on her back until the woods close around her and block line of sight.

Best to put that man out of mind. There is only the mission.

She senses the barrier long before she comes into view of it. The blatant claw marks gouged into the trees, to warn those ignorant of all but what's in front of their face, go unregarded by the sorceress. She's more interested in the non-physical barrier hung beyond the marked trees.

Powerful magic. Consistent, too. Does it encompass the entire territory? Either the dragon spent months weaving it, or they have an absurdly large spool of magic from which to draw from.

This will be her first time dealing with a dragon personally. While they are undeniably on the intelligent end of the spectrum of monster's mental capabilities, enough to communicate and debate with humans, dragons still amount to little more than beasts in the end, and she will treat it as such. Still, any entity capable of making a grand work such as this deserves her respect as a sorceress. Rather than blast her way through, she'll be subtle. Non-destructive.

Disregarding the alarm projecting forth as a deterrent to the weak-minded, Oleana kneels in front of the glittering net and ghosts her fingers along strands finer than spider's silk. Masterful work... The tension appears to be just right, with no slack to be found. An even weave. Clever pattern. That slight rainbow shimmer to indicate the quality of the thread itself, which speaks of the skill of the entity who spun it. The raw magic in the area must be wonderful indeed, to result in such beautiful thread. It's almost a pity such things are invisible to all but the select few gifted with proper talent.

Leon himself is quite sensitive to magic. He must have endured the effects of this barrier and passed through here, months ago, for the dragon to be notified of his presence in the first place. Whatever hole he made has long since been mended, and once again it speaks of the dragon's skill for there to be no visible difference between patch and original weave.

Her lips quirk as she sets about adjusting the barrier. As suited for infiltration as her magic is, even she cannot pass through this wall without a little initial manipulation.

It would be simple to snip the threads with a flick of her finger, but it would be a pity to destroy this lovely creation, even if it was woven by the hands of a beast. That, and, she's curious to see if the dragon can still sense her coming. Ideally, she'll be able to slip inside, discover Leon's fate, and if the prince is still alive, rescue him as if he were some helpless kidnapped maiden.

She sighs and continues her work until she's pushed enough threads aside to slip through the hole and enter the lush territory of the beast.

The things she does for her country.

* * *

The house feels hollow as a dead hive after Raihan's tempestuous exit. Piers' ears ring in the silence, the rough breathing of two men too loud and too uneven to convert to white noise on top of the dull roar raging in his ears. Raihan's left them, not willingly. An intruder came, and Raihan flew to take care of it, because even after such a terrible argument, his first priority is keeping them safe.

Guilt drips thick within his stomach, noxious enough to make Piers sway. Adrenaline has suppressed every ache and pang within his sore body, and thank the gods for it, because without that artificial strength holding him up, he'd already be a heap on the floor.

It was supposed to be a simple heart-to-heart. A confession. A gentle conversation. This is what he gets for trying to be optimistic for once. All his worst fears came to life before his eyes, Raihan not understanding him, Raihan getting hurt by him, Raihan getting frustrated and angry and not accepting his decision. He'd mentally braced himself against all those things long ago, but didn't think they'd actually happen so long as he had Leon to keep him steady at his side and give him hope.

What he hadn't counted on was Leon himself getting frustrated. Angry. Thrusting himself forth between Piers and his partner, telling him to stay put and shut up and let the big strong knight handle everything. Every other word out of Leon's mouth only served to piss Raihan off more, but the worst part is that everything Leon said... felt rather good to hear. Telling the dragon off for not listening, for not understanding, defending Piers' ability to be honest with his partner, all words that Piers harbored in his heart but never had the stones to say in the moment.

Doesn't change the fact that the confrontation made literally everything worse.

Leon really was ready to fight, unarmed and defenseless. Piers can't tell if Leon was stupid or if all that bravado had something to back it. He'll go with stupid. Dragons can't be challenged so easily when they're all too aware of their own strength over regular humans, but standing between one and their partner is a surefire way to send any dragon into a rage, Leon should know better!

A rough curse sears the air. Leon's body is bowstring-tense, hands clenched at his sides, tendons stiff in his neck as he stares through the open door. Frustrated that Raihan had to leave. Leon burned with more to say when the interruption came, and simmers still, with unsaid pleas and demands.

This could be an opportunity. A moment alone without Raihan to distract them. Piers needs to take advantage of this while he can and ask the question that sits acrid on his tongue.

"Why did you do that?" His voice rasps in the silence. "Why did ya challenge 'im like that?"

"Challenge...?" Leon tastes the word, and slips a thumb into his fist to sharply crack the knuckle. "Someone had to."

"No, someone did _not._ It was Rai and I's business, our problem to take care of, it wasn't your place to step in and muck everythin' up!"

"Of course it's my business!" Leon whirls around, eyes burning with controlled righteousness. "When the two people I care about most in this world are hurting because one won't listen to the other trying to explain their fears, I can't stand back and just watch."

That answer is no surprise, because Piers already knew. Should have known. With Leon's caring, heroic nature, of course if anything went sour he'd step in to try and save it. Anyone who's known Leon for more than a day should figure that much about him. Piers just never counted on things going sour at all, which is his fault, for overestimating how smoothly this should have gone.

His fault, his fault, so many things are his fault.

It's his fault for reeling Leon into this mess. He's the one who opened up about his personal problems to begin with. The one who asked Leon to be at his side for this, knowing the knight wouldn't say no. Took advantage of Leon's loyal nature, didn't he? Put someone he loves into the line of dragon-fire he _should have seen coming_ because he was too cowardly to face this alone, and now the two are angry at each other when they don't have to be, because Piers fucked up twofold, threefold, layer upon layer of mistakes.

Shouldn't have brought Leon into this, shouldn't have been so stupidly optimistic. Should never have let Leon guide him into being optimistic. It's never safe to have too high hopes, he should _know_ that by now. He should have prepared more for Raihan pushing back against his decision so he wouldn't flounder and stammer and look like an idiot when presenting the most important case of his life.

Too late for anything but regrets. Of course Leon couldn't stand back when confronted with conflict.

"Woulda been better if you had," he mutters, loud enough for Leon to hear but quiet enough to convey that he doesn't like saying it.

"No. You saw how upset and unstable he was, Piers. Tell me what I did was wrong. Tell me I shouldn't have put myself between you and the big angry dragon wanting to get in your face!"

His head jerks and he marches up with a snarl of his own, thrusting himself into Leon's space. The man doesn't flinch.

"Yes! You shouldn't have! He wasn't angry, Lee, he was hurt! You blockin' him from me didn' make his hurt any better! You shoulda let him reach me!"

"Bullshit! I know danger when I see it, Piers. I was keeping you safe. That's my duty, I promised I would always keep you safe. Even from _him,_ " Leon spits.

Piers sucks in an indignant breath and stands taller, teeth grit. "Raihan ain't someone you need to protect me from. He'd never raise a hand against me, not against either of us, no matter how angry he gets. You should know he'd never hurt us."

The hard lines carved into Leon's brow shadow the most serious expression he's ever seen on Leon's face, and that alone gives him pause. Piers takes a step back. The intensity diminishes none.

"He'd never hurt us," he tries again.

Leon meets his eyes evenly. "Then he should never look like he's about to."

The words have the same effect as any slab of stone would against his chest.

It's—true, that in the moment, Raihan looked terrifying. Eyes flashing, stature tense and wings twitching with micro-adjustments as he gauged every movement Leon made. Piers saw how those razor slit pupils flickered from vital point to vital point when Leon shifted defensive and made his stance clear.

Scary, but not... not dangerous, never truly dangerous. Raihan wouldn't have done it. Leon is someone dear to him, and it's not like Raihan hasn't roared or postured to intimidate Piers in the past, back when they didn't know they were better off sticking together.

Raihan's never looked at him quite like _that,_ though... like he was an enemy Raihan seriously considered disposing of.

_Your dragon's always had blood on his hands. Never hesitates to kill those who seek to hurt you, or jeopardize his life with you. He blamed Leon for swaying your choice—doesn't that mean he sees Leon as an enemy?_

A pulse of fear compresses Piers' chest. Raihan wouldn't have done it. He refuses to think that Raihan really is capable of hurting Leon.

"You don't know him like I do." He takes a desperate swallow to steady his voice before it cracks. "Raihan gets caught up in the moment, when he's riled up he forgets to stop an' think. He wouldn't—He might _look_ mad but he'd never raise a hand against those he loves! Against you _or_ me!"

The reveal that Raihan cares for Leon on a deep enough level falls on deaf ears. Leon only grimaces with a shake of his head.

"I don't understand how you can defend him, Piers. You did what's best for you, he had no right to blow up over that. No right!"

"He's allowed to feel whatever he wants. People get irrational when they're hurt. Especially when it comes from someone they trust."

"I don't care how hurt someone is if they look like they're going to attack you over it! Gods, it's no wonder you were so scared to tell him sooner!"

Piers hides his flinch. Leon pushes on, starting a stiff pace around the room and sticking his head out the open door. He checks the sky, curses under his breath, and shuts the door far gentler than expected for someone so riled, and the pang of appreciation that Leon, at least, knows how to check his temper, is not quite welcome in this moment.

"This isn't over. All we need to do is get Raihan to _listen_ instead of twisting things around to suit him until _he_ gets what _he_ wants. This is about you getting to feel secure, not us making sure his feelings don't get hurt," Leon growls.

He gets the sense that Leon isn't thinking entirely of Raihan as he vents and paces. Leon's got lingering vendettas about how he was treated back in Rhondeland—rightfully, understandably so—and all the wrong things resonated to drive him to take such an aggressive stance. It's Piers' fault for not factoring that in, but he can't let Rose's shadow block all sympathy towards Raihan.

"What, like Rai ain't deservin' of feelin' secure too?"

"This isn't about—"

"Yes it is, damn it! It's his relationship too, not just mine! Fuckin' ruined his hopes, I did, crashed 'em right down, ye can't pitch this like he's supposed to sit back and let his heart be broken! By me!"

Leon clutches at his hair with an open grimace. "You're still defending him! Can you not admit his wrongdoings after he shoved them into both our faces _minutes_ ago? Why take his side when he's the source of your pain?"

"Because I love him, Leon!" The shout rings through the cottage, and he draws himself up in the space of Leon's surly silence. "I love him. Nothin' about our fight changed a damn thing about tha'."

He glares hard as he can.

Leon closes his eyes. Loosens his shoulders. He looks very, very tired all of a sudden; nothing Piers can spare concern for when he's trying to hold strong, but he cracks, like he always does, in the face of a loved one's weariness. The urge to run up and soothe those lines away from Leon's face nearly budges him from where he holds fast.

"And I love you, Piers," Leon quietly states, opening his eyes. "I love you both. If you can defend him because you love him, then I can say I'm holding him accountable because I love him too. Him and you both. So please, stop talking like he didn't do anything wrong."

How naive he was, just days ago, to think that hearing Leon say those words would instantly make him happy. As of now, they're a burden on his conscience. Love, love, love, Leon loves him, loves Raihan, isn't it _lovely_ that they're all three in love? Isn't it perfect how that fixes everything? Now they all understand each other and can be happy for the rest of their days.

Piers stamps the surge of bitterness down—not enough of it, because some leaks through to his voice.

"Only if you stop talkin' like I'm beyond reproach here."

"What? But you didn't do anything wro-... Oh, Piers," Leon says, fire fully extinguished upon seeing the pained look on his face, "that's not... Do you think this is your fault? That all this happened?"

The gentle guess pushes him back a step, and Piers retreats where he stands, arms wrapping around his middle and body hunching, hair slipping into a curtain. There is no question. It's true. A whole waltz of missteps led them to this, all under the guide of his baton. This is what he gets. For aiming to change things selfishly for his own sake.

"Piers..."

Shame burns hot against the back of his neck, compounding the summer heat and stuffiness of the house.

"There's too many things I coulda done different," he confides to the floor. "Shoulda been brave enough to do this on me own. Shouldn'a brought ya into it. I shoulda predicted you'd try to defend me, 'cos that's who you are, someone who sticks up for whatever you perceive as right, no matter what you're facin' against."

It's a trait he loves Leon for. Never thought it'd reflect so catastrophically back onto themselves. Should've known that Raihan and himself aren't exempt from Leon's ironclad sense of justice.

"I admit," Piers says, "I was real scared in the moment, but... glad you were there to take over when my words weren't workin'. You seemed to make more headway than I could, through that thick skull o' his." He pushes out a frail laugh that falls and cracks like fractured ice. "But tha' just put you at risk. I'd rather Rai be pissed at me than pissed at you. I know how to handle 'im. Difference of experience, tha's all. 'M sorry fer draggin' ya into such a mess, Leon, and makin' you and Raihan fight. It shoulda just been me."

He ends his confession in a whisper, clamping so hard around his own arms he thinks he'll leave finger-shaped bruises.

Through the curtain of his bangs, the vague shape that is Leon moves haltingly closer.

"Piers, I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make all this harder for you. I just wanted to help."

"I know," he whispers. "'S why I cannae blame ya."

He holds still as Leon approaches, and doesn't move a muscle when two warm hands settle over his own, coaxing them out of their vice grips until his arms are uncrossed and his hands are held. Distantly, he's grateful that Leon isn't forcing him to look up or make eye contact, or brush his shields out of the way.

"I'm also sorry for yelling at you, Piers. And I'm sorry for stressing you out when you were plenty stressed on your own." Leon squeezes his hands, a gentle pulse. "But I'm not sorry for standing up for you. What you did took a lot of bravery. It's not your fault that Rai—that the conflict drew on for longer than you were prepared for. That's where I thought to step in. To help you finish what you started."

He says nothing. Throat won't work, too clamped up with emotion.

"You know, now that I think about it, I did do some pretty rash things, huh," Leon murmurs, rubbing over the back of Piers' hands with his thumbs. One is more calloused than the other. "Some instincts are hard to fight back when the right circumstances call them forward."

_That means you know how Raihan felt._

"...Circumstances like a 'big angry dragon' wantin' to get close to someone ye wanna protect?"

Leon chuckles without real humor. "Exactly."

Piers bites his lip, and finally peers up through his bangs. Leon isn't looking at him; he's looking down at their held hands, and Piers drops his gaze back down to join him.

"Guess you're right. He shouldn'a gotten so... aggressive," he gingerly places, "around us. Guess he really can be scary to someone who's never seen 'im angry before. I'd forgotten what it must look like to people who ain't me."

"It really is a scary sight. I never thought I'd see him look at me like that ever again."

Piers startles. "When did he...?"

"Oh. Back when we first encountered each other. I was just some intruder, who threatened to take away something he loved."

Ah. Piers swallows, throat tight. "And he thinks you're doin' it again."

Leon is silent. The hold around his hands firms. "I thought I'd have to fight him again. I hope it doesn't come to that. I know I said I'd protect you from anything, but I... I really don't want to fight him. I love him, just like I love you. I don't want there to be any fighting."

Some of the tension pinned along his spine eases.

"Neither do I. But, sorry to say, if he comes back and sees ya still holdin' me, there might be more."

"Sorry." Reluctantly, those strong hands loosen. "I didn't think of that. I just..."

Piers tugs away and puts a few steps' gap between them. "You wanna take care o' me, I know. I recognize it ain't good that we need to keep a distance to keep Raihan calm, but it's what we've got to work with."

"You're right." Leon pushes through his bangs with a sigh and a light grimace.

"This is me takin' care o' you, too. I don't want any fightin' either."

"Yeah... When he comes back, we'll try to talk again. I promise I won't do a thing to make him think I manipulated you. He has to accept that this was all your choice."

_Your choice. Your fault he's so hurt._

"A-Aye... All mine..."

"You sound unsure all of a sudden... Is something wrong?"

The words spill out more easily than he likes, and he cares less than he usually would. He's just got no energy left to keep things to himself, or to reprimand himself for giving shite away.

"You don't think Rai had some valid points, do ya? About mateship..." He shifts in place, ignoring the pang of soreness in his legs. "Some o' the stuff he said, it—it got ta me, ya ken? 'Cause he's right, we are a strange pair to begin with, why wouldn' I embrace that and accept a one-sided bond? It'd be just another oddity in our relationship. Like we don't have dozens a' those already."

And hurting Raihan was torture to his own heart. Maybe he should just... pull himself together and agree to be mates. It would really make Raihan happy, and who knows. Maybe he'd learn to like it.

Leon almost takes a step closer, but checks himself, visibly frustrated with having to stay away.

"Don't second-guess yourself after everything. You knew for a long time that accepting his mark would only make you stressed and unhappy. All that needs to happen is Raihan knowing that too."

"Y-Yeah..." Leon's right, but why does he still feel so guilty? Rai really did have some valid points...

"Everything will be fine. I promise. The three of us can work through this. We all want the same thing in the end. The only difference is, I suppose we've all had slightly different ideas of how to get there. It's nothing a candid talk can't solve."

Such optimism... Piers' lips tug upward despite himself. Looking on the bright side ain't something that comes natural to him, but he can appreciate shows of hope from someone who wields it effortlessly, wears their confidence like a well-fitted crown.

"I hope yer right, Lee. Hopefully takin' care of the intruder helps Rai blow some steam... Should be about finished by now."

"Does he usually take this long to come back?"

"Come to think of it, no, usually he's faster..."

"Should we go find him?"

"No, he told us to stay put." More like ordered... "It'll worry 'im if we ain't where we're supposed to be."

Leon shakes his head with a wry smile. "You mean it'll worry him if _you're_ not where you're supposed to be. I doubt he cares where I am, I can't be his favorite person in the world right n—"

Mid-breath, Leon freezes. Stares beyond the walls. His body shudders from the base of his spine all the way up to the top, and his shoulders go stiff in disbelief.

"No..." he murmurs. "No, that—it can't be."

Before Piers can ask what's wrong, a rattle from somewhere in the cottage snags his attention along with no small amount of dread. Piers glances over his shoulder on his way to investigate. The sound comes from that little room stuffed with artifacts and instruments from the previous owner, and Piers knows better than to open that door needlessly.

This reeks of magic. He's heard some of these things twitch whenever Raihan uses magic, but for so many to go off at once, something must be abnormal. Leon's sensitive to this shite too, ain't he? Fuck, if only Piers could feel it; he's dead blind to magic and all its effects.

A strained gasp reels him back. He dashes back to a wincing Leon with comforting hands—distance be damned, if Raihan catches them like this, he'll accept the consequences—and rubs over his hunched back.

"Lee, are you alright?"

Leon audibly swallows and groans, pressing into the base of his skull like he has a migraine and shuddering again.

"It's her," he weakly says. "She's really... Oh..."

Someone Leon knows...? They must be from Rhondeland, and that bodes toxically ill. How strong must they be for him to sense it all the way out here? She isn't close, is she? Oh, gods, please let Raihan be safe—he's a powerful hand at magic himself, but it's so rare that he duels any human with the skill. There's no thunder, no lightning, no storm clouds darkening the sky, so Raihan hasn't gotten serious. Surely he must if the enemy let off a whatever-that-was like that?

"Who is it? Raihan can take care of them, right? She can't be stronger than him, can't be."

The man trembles like a leaf in icy wind, and Piers rubs his back harder, wishing he could snuff out this new fear that rises tangibly, sour in the stuffy air.

"S-She came for me," Leon rushes under his breath. "She found me. I should have known he'd send her to look for me, why did I never think—I'm so stupid!" He shakes his head vigorously and clutches at his skull. "Of course she'd be here!"

" _Who,_ Leon?"

A weak noise tears out of Leon's throat and he hunches worse, digging his knuckles into his temples.

" _Oleana!_ "

The name is unfamiliar, but the cornered, hollow way Leon says her name lights an instant image of danger in Piers' mind, one that he fortifies against. He refuses to make things worse when Leon looks so unstable. Painful irony, after all his talk against optimism, here he is clinging to it for the sake of another.

"It's okay, Leon. Raihan will—he'll take care of it, make them go away, it'll be jus' fine. Rai's watchin' over us, he'll keep us safe."

"You don't understand. She isn't someone you can make go away. I don't think he could even kill her. Let alone hurt her. Or frighten her. Oleana, she's..."

Morbid curiosity keeps him from cutting the doomsaying short. He needs to know more, but he can't let Leon freak himself out, but he _needs_ to know if Raihan is in danger out there!

"It's okay, it'll be fine!" Piers' comforts are starting to sound frantic to his own ears. "Rai can match her, can't he? He can chase her away. Make her leave."

"Piers, w-what if she already knows I'm here? Then all she has to do is take Raihan down, she won't think twice about hurting him! Rhondeland hates dragons! If he gets in her way, she'll hurt him!"

Piers' mind lifts dizzy as if he inhaled alchemical fumes, worry for his Raihan spinning tighter and tighter in his chest. He wants so badly to run out there and see if Rai's okay, but he can't leave Leon here alone. Nor can he take Lee with him if someone from Rhondeland is out there, ready to snatch their prince away, and besides, Raihan hates when he puts himself in harm's way, becomes a burden and distraction that Rai needs to split his attention for.

Stuck. Helpless. Can't do a single damn thing. Piers' teeth grind and he glares at the blue sky through the nearest window. Ever since Raihan rescued him from that prison cell of a tower he's ran and ran from the feeling of being trapped. Shutting mateship down was just another way of escaping that feeling, but here he is again, unable to do anything to enact real change.

A strangled whine from within his arms snaps him out of it, and every breath that rasps shallower and shallower ratchets him back from the brink of a dive into hopelessness.

Leon...

Piers smothers his spiralling and wrangles it into as straight a line as he can. He's not useless. There are still things he can do.

"Lee, darlin', shush there... It'll be alright. Come—sit down, breathe, won't do any good to panic."

He uses his full body weight, slight as it is, to encourage his anxious lover down. Leon allows himself to be lowered, legs stilted and stiff until he's sitting on his heels on the hard floor. Piers pulls him against his chest, arms wrapped tight and hoping that a tight hug is enough of a ward, for Leon and himself both, to keep their heads level.

"Raihan won't let her win," he states with as much conviction as he can muster. "She might be strong, but so is he. You've never seen Rai in action, and I've never met this woman either, but if I had to place my bets I'd bet my life that Raihan beats her out. And that's if they even have to fight. He can talk her down."

"But what if he failed? That magic I felt, it was strong, like... like she _wanted_ me to feel it. What if she's on her way here right now? What if—What if he lets her take me?"

Piers sucks in a cold breath. "He wouldn't. Don't say that."

"But Piers, he was so _mad_ at me." Leon's voice cracks and he presses hard against Piers' chest. "I made him mad at me. I thought I was doing the right th-thing, fighting for you, but now Raihan's mad at me, he wanted to fight me and now he's in arm's reach of someone who's _looking_ for me and—"

" _Hush._ " Piers pauses to allow a strained sniff to pass, and to let his own feelings settle. "Hush, there, that's a dear. Listen t' me. Raihan might act on his anger real easy, but he'd never betray you. To a dragon, breakin' one's trust is a crime akin to slittin' one's throat. He'd never give you up, never betray ye."

"But that's what I did!" Leon says, airy and pitched high. "He c-called me a traitor, in his eyes I betrayed him, w-what reason would he have to not tell her I'm right h-here? And—And what if it's my fault if he gets hurt? Because I distracted him with arguing? Piers, I don't know what to do, I- I don't why you're hold-ing me when I made you mad too, I need to be punished, I don't deserve any of this—"

"Oi!" He grabs Leon's shoulders and gives them a shake. "Calm the fuck down, ya ain't gettin' punished and I ain't bloody mad at ye! Nobody's givin' away anyone! We love ya, Leon, we're here to protect ya!"

The familiar, subtle sound of wingbeat-wind ruffles the air from afar outside, but before he can call it out, say that _see, Rai's back, he won, everything's okay, I told you so,_ Leon goes dead still in his arms, and whispers.

"She's coming."

There's no use asking if he's sure.

"It's faint, but I feel it. Her magic. It's close—getting closer." Leon pushes him to arm's length, holds him there and stares right into his eyes, the honeyed hue crystallized and sharp with determination. "You need to hide. I won't let her hurt you. It's useless to fight her. I know she won't kill me, and she's someone who doesn't push beyond what's necessary. You'll be safe as long as I'm the one talking to her."

But why would she be close? Raihan wouldn't let her walk in, he wouldn't lead her to this place for any reason, not unless he actually wanted to... Oh, gods below, please let it not be true. Let Leon's instincts be telling him all the wrong things. Raihan would never, _never_ give either of them away, no matter how wrecked and unstable he is on the inside, his dragon's heart always comes back to the right place.

What does he bank on? Leon's sensitivity, or his own faith? Leon doesn't know Raihan's coming yet, does he? His ears aren't as sharp or attuned to Raihan's presence like Piers' are.

Fuck, why can't he protect Leon wholly without also being paranoid about what his own partner is up to? Can't he trust both? Piers clutches his locket and gnaws the inside of his cheek hard enough for it to hurt in earnest. Play it safe and let Leon take the reins again, or hang tight to his trust in his partner to do the right thing?

Before his very eyes, Leon slides into blank-faced resolve so quickly it chills him, and rises to his feet. "I'll face her alone."

...He has to go with his gut.

"No. I need you to listen t' me." Piers scrambles upright and grabs Leon's shirt in a tight fist. "Our whole fight earlier was about gettin' Rai to hear me, yeah? Well I need you to listen to me now."

Leon's head snaps to the side, jaw clenched, staring at some distant point through the walls.

"Look at me!" he growls, and yanks on the shirt until Leon obeys. "You need. To trust. Raihan."

Leon says nothing. Only stares down at him, eyes hard and flat.

"Trust him," Piers pleads.

A warm knuckle brushes along his cheek. "I don't know if I can. Not if she's already here."

Outside, a pained breath rasps over the still, stuffy air, and all of Piers' thoughts wipe blank.

"Raihan?" he calls, against his better judgement. "Love, are you alright?"

A shear of wind blasts around the whole house, and he doesn't need to see to know that Raihan fled. Raihan's never not come to him when Piers says his name...

"It's... gone," Leon says behind him, defusing in his confusion. "She's leaving? That doesn't make any sense..."

Chest tight, worry bubbling forth like a spring suppressed, Piers dashes to the door and wrenches it open. Grass whips in the wake of a desperate take-off, and by the time Piers claws his hair back from the wind's clutches, all he catches is a fleeing speck in the sky, the shape of it wholly known. Raihan was alone.

Something isn't right. Nothing's been right ever since he told Raihan they needed to talk, but something here is especially wrong. Something happened out there that turned his furious partner into someone who felt the need to flee, and he has a hunch it wasn't just what was overheard.

He can hunch and guess and assume all he likes, but the only way to know for sure what the fuck happened is to ask. Ask, and talk, and work all this over, all of it. Oleana, Rai and Leon's fight, mateship, their future, everything.

There's no running from this. No avoiding his lover until the perfect moment presents itself. This needs to be handled _now._

They're going to hike out there, find their damned dragon, and fucking talk until the world makes sense again.

* * *

_If only Leon weren't here to interfere at all._

The forest rattles and sways under a dragon's heavy landing, wings snapping and tail cutting the underbrush. Wind courses in chaotic spirals and sends the robes of the intruder billowing before him.

Raihan assesses them, and they assess him, both silent as every bird flees every tree and leaves the forest dead silent in their flurrying wake.

The stranger carries no visible weapon. No killing intent. He sees now that it's a human woman, pale hair like ribbons in the settling wind, expression almost bored, save for a single lifted eyebrow as she inspects him horn to toe.

Raihan slowly straightens and folds his tense wings. She must be some sort of magic-user to have crept through his border so seamlessly. Just his luck. He'd rather they were yet another brainless warrior to vent his rage upon, tear them limb from limb and scatter their remains and let flecks of drying blood overshadow the wind-dried tears upon his face. He wants something to destroy, to rend, to sink his claws into an enemy and pretend that ripping them apart is the key to every problem. Spill fresh blood to refill the gash in his own heart, drop for drop.

But. Regrettably. This is no axe-wielding, armor-clad fighter rushing in with a death wish. This thin figure doesn't seem suited to fighting, draped in black robes that consume all sunlight, long enough to only hinder swift movement.

Honor dictates that he doesn't needlessly slaughter those who don't seek to harm him or his treasure, meaning he first needs to determine this stranger's motivations.

His tail lashes. He doesn't have time for such things. Every minute he's out here is another minute of Piers left alone with Leon. Another minute for the knight to taint his treasure, veer his mate away from the proper path and he can't let that happen any more than it already has.

Leon's never seemed the manipulative type, and that's exactly why he's so dangerous. There's not a single sneaky bone in that body. No, instead, he brims with charm and charisma and a sense of righteousness; anything Leon deems righteous, he pursues, and one can't help but follow in his wake, and he's so oblivious about his charm that it only compounds its effectiveness. Raihan knows this about him, and Piers knows it too, but shouldn't that mean that Piers is resistant to Leon's subconscious influence? Piers, who's so keen, so sharp to the intentions of others. Was he truly unable to resist being told that mateship isn't right for him? Or maybe...

Maybe Piers let himself be influenced because it aligned with what he already wanted.

A chill spreads from the low center of his spine out to both ends, prickling his skull and numbing the distant end of his tail. That's the only thing that makes sense. Piers allowed himself to be swayed. Piers, who's so difficult to manipulate or convince to act against what he thinks is right.

For Piers to follow Leon's whisperings and reject him, to not want to be tied to him... Able to leave at any time... Not wanting _'something one-sided,'_ something that's a natural consequence of their interspecies coupling...

Raihan takes in a deeper breath of heavy summer air to stave off the sudden dizziness. If Piers were partnered with another human, he'd never have to worry about such things, would he. And Leon—Leon said, multiple times through the months, that he never planned on getting between them. Easily achievable if one day there were no longer any _thing_ to get between.

This is bad... This is very, very bad.

The two are already in love. They know all about their reciprocated feelings. Nothing's stopping them from being together. Nothing's stopping Piers from trading one relationship for another. Leon's practically a perfect option, powerful and handsome and able to relate to Piers as royalty and brave enough to stand up to a dragon.

Raihan's stomach plummets and his wing jerks out for balance. Such an outcome is impossible. Piers would never leave him. Never. He said so back there! Piers is loyal, loves him, would never leave him for another!

(But if that _other_ was willing to fight for him, and steal him away...

There's only one thing to do about that, isn't there?)

Agitation floods over him like the heat of an advancing wildfire. He needs to get back as fast as possible. Good thing exterminating intruders never takes long when he's serious. Raihan's never once lost a battle to a human with all his magic at his disposal and no qualms against killing—if this is someone he's allowed to kill with a clean conscience.

"You're the dragon?" The stranger breaks the brief silence first. Her voice is dull, monotone with a promise of disdain. "What an odd looking creature you are."

She's referencing his chosen form. Human-like frame, hands, face, legs.

Her accent and manner of speaking pisses him off for some reason.

"What is it you want," he hisses. "If you're here to kill me, spare me the trouble of having to dispose of your body and leave my territory. I'll grant you this chance to escape without trouble."

"Kill you?" Painted lips spread in a slight smile. "No, dragon, I'm not here to cause unnecessary trouble. I'm merely looking for something that lost its way, and wondered if I might find it here."

Raihan narrows his eyes. A lost item, what bullshit. Nobody trespasses a dragon's territory so sneakily if they don't have a serious reason to do so. He wonders if this woman would rather he never noticed her presence.

"What do you want," he repeats. "This land is mine, nothing escapes me. I'll be able to tell you if what you seek is here or not."

Her smile settles into something self-satisfied, and he's immediately on edge.

"Are you sure you'll be so forthcoming with your information?" She casts a glance over her shoulder and he stifles the urge to bristle. To take her eyes off him, what an insulting lack of concern. "You've got quite the thorough barrier. One would assume you're hiding something precious in this lair of yours."

The seeds of a growl take root deep in his chest. "Stop wasting my time. I'm not here to entertain you."

"That makes it sound like I interrupted something by arriving."

_Yes, and it's none of your fucking business._

"Tell me what you're here for before I decide it's not worth keeping you alive. No human is welcome here, and you've already squandered your chance to leave unharmed," he says through bared teeth.

The woman sets a hand on her hip and shifts her weight.

"No humans at all?"

The shadows of her robes seem too deep for the gentle dappled lighting of the forest, and some strange gut feeling has him loosening his stiff stance by a single degree in case he needs to move swiftly.

"None."

Her pretty head tilts. "What about the one you keep?"

Protectiveness surges and his face twists into a hostile snarl. _She's here for Piers._ Yet another intruder here to steal his beloved, it's been a while since someone made his treasure their objective. The last person to do so was... no, no thinking about him now!

Raihan's claws itch to sink into flesh. He has reason enough to kill her where she stands, but the strange aura he senses lurking about her person instills enough caution to not decapitate her in a single strike. Never engage a mage without forcing them to show their hand first—that's the most basic of basics.

He swallows down his hiss. "How did you know about him."

"You really think you can steal someone and not have anyone wonder where they went? Foolish beast, I should have had higher expectations for your intelligence."

The insults slide right past him. She can deride him all she wants; all he cares about is protecting his mate, his treasure, his fated one who _doesn't want to be with you forever who let Leon sway him who might not love you as much as you thought or else he would have said yes—_

"I don't care who's looking for him. He's mine. Always will be." He hates how it sounds like he's trying to convince himself.

"Oh, please. As much as you might think that pretty thing is yours, he doesn't belong to you."

The knife left in his chest from Piers' rejection twists anew.

"Yes he does," he forces out. "Nobody can take him from me. People have tried, and they've all failed."

Anyone who stands in the way of that must be punished. The obstacle, removed. First he'll take care of this woman, and then he'll fly back home and find some way to take care of _that_ too.

The woman sighs and splays her fingertips along her cheekbone, the image of exasperation.

"Dragon. Humans are not playthings you can call finders-keepers with. They all have places they belong. Holding one captive in your territory doesn't change that fact. This one's king misses him dearly, and I'm here to take him home."

His churning thoughts flash-freeze and he stills to the bone. King...?

This woman has no Àitesambith accent, she can't be here for Piers. In fact, the shape of her speech, the reason her voice annoys him so much, her manner of speaking reminds him more of...

"Which king do you speak of," he slowly inquires, a distant, murky emotion rising from the depths that he dares not parse just yet. "From where did you come?"

She lifts her chin. "I hail from Rhondeland, blessed by the Light and ruled by the great King Rose. Not that I expect a dragon to be mindful of political geography."

Recognition washes over him, cool and persistent as the ocean tides and blanketing his senses. The subtle rustling of the forest, the scent of humid green, the patches of warmth on his skin where the light filters through the distant treetops, all of it fades away and leaves him standing there alone, face to face with a representative of the kingdom that cultivated their very own precious, capable, champion prince.

He swallows. What was that wish of his, just before landing? The thought he so darkly entertained?

_If only Leon weren't here..._

This woman... she's not here for Piers.

She's here to take Leon away. Isn't that a fascinating, miraculous coincidence. Fateful, almost. Like the world empathized with his internal strife and decided to place him at a crossroads.

The thought comes fleeting, like a harsh glint of sunlight through the wing of a startled bird.

_If Leon was taken away, nothing would prevent you and Piers from being together as mates, forever._

The thought settles. Takes root. Bit by bit, his surroundings fall back into place and the world opens up along with sprawling opportunity.

_You could get rid of him right here. Strike a deal, fake defeat, ensure she leaves your treasure alone while 'stealing' Leon to Rhondeland, it was out of your hands how everything went wrong, how tragic, how tragic that he lost this battle! To come limping home, desperate and confused, to a house of only one! Such a shame he wasn't stronger, that this witch stole Leon away and there was nothing, nothing he could do to stop her. To protect his one remaining treasure, they'd have no choice but to run far away and settle anew, just the two of them. A clean end. Perfect plan. But oh, how Piers would cry—_

Raihan physically recoils, skin crawling as if thousands of mites dug beneath his skin while distracted. The world is too bright, too harsh, reality sharp where dreams are chased away.

What was he thinking?

Break Piers' heart?

_He isn't as devoted to you as you think. Otherwise he'd have accepted your bond._

Betray Leon?

_He betrayed you first. Wanted to get between you and your one true love. Get rid of him, and your life will go back to being perfect._

Unease twists in his stomach like the dying throes of a snake. His hands flex at his sides, claws tearing the air and ripping raw magic through the seams.

No... _no,_ if he truly hated Leon, then this writhing guilt in his gut wouldn't be tormenting him so. If he really thought handing the prince over was the best move, he would already be doing it. So why...

_Oh._

Raihan strangles the anguished warble vying to rise in his throat. The scales down his tail bristle and lift and his claws pierce deeper into the air, longer and more wicked against the vile enemy standing not before him, but born inside himself.

He still has love for Leon. That's why.

He might feel betrayed, that Leon stomped and spat upon the trust upon which dragons stake all their honor, but the idea of giving his Lee away still makes him sick. The urge to defend what's precious to him, what he promised, _swore_ to keep safe, glows like a stubborn ember despite being smothered by layer after layer of confusion and pain. Even after everything Leon hurled at him, even after they nearly came to blows and _even after_ Leon obstructed him from his rightful mate, Raihan still loves him.

He can't turn traitor himself. No matter how hurt he is, how angry, he can't do it. He won't hand her Rhondeland's prince on a silver platter. Just the idea makes him feel sick, soul-rotten. He'd be a failure of a dragon, a failure of a _friend._ And to hurt Piers by allowing Leon to come to harm... He might as well personally drive a stake through his sweetheart's chest. Might as well slit his own throat.

He promised to protect, and protect Raihan will. For Piers' sake, and his own sake, and... and for Leon's sake, too, Raihan can't let anyone damage what's his. He refuses to let her steal his knight.

But what _will_ he do? The enemy is still here, in front of him, dangerous and armed with unknown magic and determined to take his second loved one away. His Leon, _his._ Not hers. Not Rose's.

_Mine._

"It would be wise to hand him over, dragon. I'd rather not have to fight."

Raihan snaps his attention to her and soothes over the agitation prickling his every extremity.

If killing her wouldn't bring more of Rhondeland's agents and armies, her vile blood would already be spilling all over his land. This could be a chance. He needs to get rid of her, bloodlessly. Needs to send her back to that hated king with news that Leon is dead, else they'll lose the best shot they have at getting that man to let his precious champion go for good. But how to achieve that, he already admitted to keeping a human!

"Did you know?" She interrupts his racing thoughts. "These lands are governed by no one. There's no king, no lord or ruler, that would get angry over a little... justified desecration."

A pale hand lifts, shadows pooling in the palm of her hand and flickering into a hideous black flame that emits no light, only steals and sucks it in.

Raihan's whole body jolts at the threat to his territory. This foul bitch wants to not only steal his treasure, but destroy everything he's worked hard to care for? What foul magic, he's never seen nor heard about anything like it before.

"In case you didn't think I was serious. If need be, I'll burn this place to the ground to find him, with or without you in the way."

"You don't need to go that far," he says, a pulse of panic forcing him to step closer. His gut tells him that no amount of rain he could summon would put out a fire like that.

"I'll go as far as I must to get what I want. So why don't we make this simple, and you hand over the prince, before I decide to drop this."

The flame flickers with a roll of her fingers. There's only one path to talk his way out of this. Established from the very beginning; their agreed-upon story of Leon's tragic, noble demise. He never once thought he'd have to verbally back it up; the evidence of a demolished knight should have been enough to turn people away! Her patience is running thin, he can tell, and the longer he takes to answer the harder this will be to sell.

Just make her think Leon is dead. Make her think Leon died beneath these very claws and teeth. Raihan was the one to hurt him, kill him, treat him like the enemy he truly is and put an end to that beautiful life, _gods,_ why does this hurt so much?

"You're mistaken," churns out rough as gravel. "So put that away. That prince... your champion, yes? Violet hair, eyes like gold?"

The black flame snuffs inside a curious fist, and the land-guardian part of Raihan relaxes. "Indeed."

Raihan licks his lips and looks her in the eye with a forced sneer.

"Ahh, _that's_ who you were talking about. That man? I killed him myself." The lie guts him, and to mask the pain lancing through his core, he turns his grimace into a bigger leer. "For a moment I thought you were threatening to take _my_ treasure away. Sorry to say, you came all this way for nothing."

A disbelieving eyebrow raises. "Is that so."

"That prince you speak of... He certainly did come here. Wanting to kill me. Wanting to steal what's _mine._ " He hopes the slash of his mouth reads as sadistic more than sickened. "So I fixed that right up. Got rid of him. What else did you expect me to do?"

It hurts more than he expected, to speak of getting rid of Leon permanently like that. Further evidence that he's doing the right thing, and further evidence that what he _almost_ considered doing was very, very wrong. His heart pounds from the realized near-miss, heavy and condemning as a hammer on a death bell.

Raihan upholds his casual stance as the sorceress narrows her eyes, and for a moment, he thinks she might have bought the story.

Please, leave, leave and tell everyone Leon is dead, make this world safe for him, so that Raihan can... what? Go back home to continue their fight? Get angry at Lee for interfering with Piers' decisions?

...Is he still angry?

Can he afford to be?

_You don't know what to think anymore, one second you hate him, the next you want to be rid of him, now you're trying to save him after it's his fault Piers said no to you. What is he to you, now? Enemy? Friend? Are you protecting him here, only to chase him away yourself later? Will you keep him by your side after what he did to you and Piers? What do you want, Raihan?_

A wave of cold ripples through his body, heavying his wings. There are no answers. The best he can do is handle one accursed problem at a time.

"I don't like it when I'm lied to, dragon. Don't take me for a fool."

He scoffs. "I'm not—"

She lifts a hand, pouring a wave of _threat_ from her small person that almost forces him to step back. Physically harmless, but psychologically strenuous. _This will hurt you, this wants to kill you, threat threat threat kill it before it kills you, you're not big enough, not safe enough, run or fight!_

The most he betrays on the outside are stiff wings and a jaw tight enough to compress sand to stone. On the inside, Raihan claws against himself, itching to tear out of this body into something bigger, stronger, more threatening, so this intruder will regret their decision to challenge him. To beat his instincts into line takes every frayed thread of control he has.

This isn't. The time. To fight. He needs to be cool-headed. Calm. Not give in to her manipulation and talk his way through this conflict. If only he had Piers' skills for this; negotiation was never his forte.

"I'm telling the truth," he grits. His body shudders under the wracking urge to lunge or flee, one of the two. "We battled. Head to head. He got a few cuts in, but was no match for my strength and skill."

_Splashing river. Shining skin. A laugh and a rough hand over his back to brush off stuck grass from being thrown to the ground half a dozen more times in a spar. A losing streak he never minded._

"He spouted all this nonsense about taking my head back home for his king. All in the name of glory for his country."

_A dandelion puff, twirled in nervous hands, the prince the image of lost where he sat as he told his story to the monster he only just met._

"Noble, as far as knights come, but I... I ripped him to pieces just the same," he gulps, fingers twinging in phantom disgust, as if Leon's blood really were on his hands. To think, he almost made it so. If this woman never interrupted, what might he have done...? Body numb with hindsight dread, Raihan lifts his hand and glares at her between two lengthened, bloodless claws, and gloats. "Nothing remains."

"Then who _are_ you keeping here?" she presses with a coy tilt of the head, diminishing the outpour of magic until he's no longer a twitch away from bursting free of every seam.

He loathes to drag Piers into this fabrication, wants to keep him as far away from this sorceress as possible, but he has to add his mate to the story to make this work. Piers would want him to do this. For Leon's sake.

"A different prince. One I stole from a land far away. I brought him here to keep, and your champion was just another threat to our happiness." Is he still? "Why wouldn't I want to kill a knight seeking to slay me and take what's mine?"

_Believe me, believe me, and don't ask about Piers, one threat to him is too many..._

"I see..." Her neutral expression doesn't budge. For someone so dead set on obtaining their prince, the sorceress shows not a blink of remorse or concern for Leon's apparent demise. "So you really have no evidence of the death? I'd be more inclined to believe you if you had something to give me. A bone would suffice." A mildly disgusted gaze scans over him. "Unless you ate him."

From anyone else, such a joke would make him laugh. From her, it only turns his stomach, and he endeavors to keep his face schooled to stone. Let her think what she likes.

"I noticed you disposed of his armor," she continues on her own. "What of the sword?"

The sword... It wasn't on Leon's hip, else it would have been drawn and pointed at his throat earlier. It must be resting in Leon's bedroom.

"What if I do have it," he cautiously tests.

"Then I _suggest_ you hand it over. I know it's a lovely piece of craftsmanship, dragon, but if it's all the evidence that remains, you're better off giving it to me."

Apprehension taps on his shoulder and winds close around his neck to whisper in his ear. It can't be that easy. One gifted sword, and she'll be on her merry way, never to be seen again? He'd be an idiot to trust that implication.

Still... What better avenue does he have?

Raihan swallows and rolls his shoulders. "Fine. If that's what it'll take to get you to piss off. I kept it as a trophy because it was pretty. If you leave my territory I'll give it to you tomor—"

"No. You'll bring it to me now."

He plays the monstrous-nature card.

"You think a dragon can part with his treasures so easily?"

The woman narrows her eyes, lip curled. "...If you need some time to come to terms with giving it up, then fine. But I'm not moving from this spot until that sword is in my hands. I can be patient, but don't. Test me."

"Glad we reached an understanding."

"Bring me the sword no later than tomorrow. As a show of my goodwill, I won't step any farther into your territory, but if you dally too long..." That cursed black flame flares in the palms of both hands. A stray drop of it hits the forest floor and Raihan gasps, nearly cries out from the silent shriek of pain from the land. "Then I'll do my own searching. Without any of this lovely forest to get in my way. And don't think about running away from me. Not that you should have any reason to, if all you say is true. If it isn't..."

Her voice drops low, and the flame swells like a bubble of tar.

"You don't have to threaten me," he bites, chest tight with anxiety at that disgusting magic touching his territory. "I'll be back with your sword. No later than tomorrow."

"Good." She smiles like the owner of some disobedient dog that finally decided to cower. "Ah, but before you go. Allow me to apply some insurance. Just to be sure you obey. Hold still for me."

In his peripherals, something deepens and writhes. His wings snap forward and send him flying back, magic of his own already wound around his hand to block or slice, but from the darkness cast by his own forearm a midnight thorn pierces clean through the flesh of his shoulder, right where the scales are thinner. It digs deep, spreading black like an infection, a parasite hungry for marrow, no longer cold as it is completely devoid of all sensation.

Raihan stumbles back and claws at the wound, throat constricting in panic when he realizes he can't feel his own nails raking across flesh and drawing blood. Death? Necrosis? Just an anesthetic? What is this? Foul, black shadow magic, able to attack from any direction, he never should have assumed he was safe!

She had the upper hand this whole time.

The spread finally stops once it's blackened his shoulder, scales withered and dry and leeched of their brilliance. The only natural color is that of his blood, oozing from a gash that sends no alarms, ruby red over charred black.

A quiet chuckle of amusement reaches him. "Don't hurt yourself, dragon. It's merely a simple stigma that allows me to track you. If you comply with what you promised, you have nothing to fear. I'll remove it once our deal is done."

The blood trickling out of his self-inflicted wound is only felt once it trails down his bicep, warm and sticky outside the dead zone of the stigma.

He takes one step back. Then another. The sorceress doesn't move, merely gazing with dull eyes that he feels against his back even as he breaks into a run and takes desperate flight the moment the trees are thin enough to spread his wings for takeoff.

He doesn't feel safe until he breaches the forest canopy and the summer sun burns against his wings. Higher, higher he soars, frustration burning from within just as strongly as the sun beats against his back. The wind fills his ears and smooths over his skin, his blackened shoulder unfeeling to the consolation of flight. An anchor of nothingness. He deserves it, doesn't he?

He feels wrung out, small, and disgusting. His anger at Leon seems weak and distant now, filtered through the very real danger of losing him forever. As much as he raged and blamed the prince _(ex-prince, Leon's never going back to Rhondeland, never, you'll fight anyone who tries it)_ for ruining his mateship, he didn't think that actually _losing Leon_ would carve such an emptiness inside.

How could he have considered backstabbing his second treasure, who trusts and relies on him for safety? Who allowed him to take his first real kiss? Leon, who placed himself into Raihan's care for his very first foray into shared intimacy, vulnerable and willing and sweet. The damage it would do, to someone who's come so far in learning to love and live freely. Something he's never had in his whole life, something he was ready to fight and kill for up until he met Raihan, who gave him that crossroads opportunity to have freedom without a fight.

What horrendous irony that would be. Raihan was the one to realize the poor, desperate knight knocking at his territory was somebody who needed saving. Raihan was the one to decide that Leon deserved the chance to stay, and live, and grow and _thrive._ And Raihan was the one to almost take it all away.

He pumps his wings harder, ascends in spirals until the natural updrafts born of summer's heat sustain his elevation, as if he can somehow escape his own shame by flying high enough. Raw magic thrums in the atmosphere, responding to his distress, practically keening for the chance to twist into a storm under his command, it's been so long since he let loose and allowed the elements under his control to embrace him, but he suppresses it. Keeps the bad weather at bay. No matter how cathartic and calming it would feel, the last thing he needs is to induce a storm and render Piers frightened from the thunder. Then again, Leon might be able to comfort him, and is that—is that something to be fearful of, or grateful for? That Leon can provide Piers safety and love in his absence?

A flare of blackness shoots into the sky and he somersaults midair to track it, petrified until he realizes it isn't meant to damage or burn. Merely a signal. A warning to him, to not fly too far? To get on with it already?

He snarls and sweeps harder through the air until he can spot the tower in the distance thanks to altitude alone, a pinprick against the rolling hills and fields.

Fuck that sorceress, fuck her magic, her stigma, her demands, her control over him! He wants to roar his frustrations, rip the sky until it gushes thunder and storm, but he can't, that witch will hear and know he's distraught and decide to investigate personally after all, or burn his territory to the ground with that disgusting magic of hers and advance upon the true gems of his hoard that he nearly betrayed himself.

_How could you. How could you! Failure of a dragon, failure of a friend._

_No wonder Piers doesn't want to be your mate._

The wind snatches a broken sound away. He really does feel small. Too small, like he's going to break out of his skin. This awkward humanoid form is a weak shell, not enough to contain the tumult battering him from within. Just one small shift, one little change to better suit himself.

His claws lengthen into true talons, his fangs grow sharper and crowd his jaw, scales itching to spread and skull wanting to split and surge into something befitting the predator he is, with jaws that can uproot the largest trees and teeth that can rip into any ship as if its belly were as soft as a thrashing fish. The dragon holds himself back from that cusp. He needs to stay the size he is or he won't be able to enter the house to find that Eternatus-damned fucking _sword._

Getting his hands on it means potentially passing his treasures— _bundling them together again, are we? Not mate and traitor? Treasures again? Can't even pick a narrative and stick to it, you sorry creature_ —and the thought of being around them after what he nearly did puts a fresh crack in his heart. He doesn't want to face them. Can't. He'll break. But to make the biggest threat leave his territory means getting his hands on that sword.

He almost hopes his nightmare comes true, and that Leon really will try to grab Piers and run away, just so he doesn't have to meet either of their eyes as he skulks into Leon's room and steals the one remnant tie he has to the country beckoning for his return.

Yellow, sun-dried grass waves and welcomes him as he lights down with forced silence. He shouldn't feel the need to creep and sneak within his own territory, but here he is, stalking along so that approach and arrival hopefully go unheard. Piers has sharp ears and he can never be too careful.

The cottage is close, so close, he can see the window of Leon's bedroom where the sword must be. Unless the knight grabbed it while he was gone. He's too large to fit through the window anyways, not without transforming, and he's not remotely stable enough to shift himself smaller when he still feels like he'll burst out of his own skin at any moment. Front door it is...

The stigma in his shoulder throbs disgustingly around bone. To let such an unsightly, repulsive thing stain him... What an appropriate reflection of himself.

As he creeps closer, he detects rushed conversation. Leon. Piers. Raihan's lip curls around larger fangs, until he hears exactly what they're talking about.

"It's useless to fight her. I know she won't kill me, and she's someone who doesn't push beyond what's necessary. You'll be safe as long as I'm the one talking to her."

_He knows._

Leon knows who came, and his first thought is how to keep Piers safe. He'd put himself in front of that woman for Piers...

Raihan's wings cramp closer to his body as if they can shield him from his own shame.

"I'll face her alone."

_No!_

Piers' voice cuts in and voices exactly what Raihan wishes he could cry out.

"No. I need you to listen t' me. Our whole fight earlier was about gettin' Rai to hear me, yeah? Well I need you to listen to me now. Look at me! You need. To trust. Raihan."

Trust...?

Raihan's claws pierce and rip the earth on the next steps forward. He isn't worthy of any faith. Undeserving of it.

He shambles around the perimeter of the house, tail dragging, dreading the moment where he confronts his loves. The door is within reach. No stalling. Get the sword, give it to the woman, and get her away from this land, so they can all... what? Talk? Confess? What can he possibly say to them after how he left?

"Trust him," Piers entreats. Begs. And Raihan pauses, ears strained for any hint of response from the man he desperately wants to keep safe from the enemy waiting for his return. He deserves Leon's trust least of all, but he can't help but hope to hear...

"I don't know if I can," Leon quietly says. "Not if she's already here."

He can't stop the gasp that dashes, dry and painful, into his lungs. Those soft, resigned words gouge right into his chest and shred what little confidence he has left. He can't breathe anymore, it hurts, everything hurts and he's too small and too weak and there's no way he can open that door, the slightest glimpse of either man will ruin him and they'll see that he let himself be injured because he was too weak in body and mind to protect them as they deserve.

"Raihan? Love, are you alright?"

For the first time in Raihan's life, Piers calls his name and he runs the opposite way.

Oleana awaits him, needs the sword before she'll leave, but he can't. He can't face them, he can't! Something broke in him and he can't do anything but flee. Flee from those he loves, who he almost betrayed, who depend on him for their safety, because he's the safest place for them in the entire world. How could he? How could he?

The sky embraces him as he races towards the highest point in his territory, vision blurred and and insides ripped asunder. Self-disgust fuels his flight above all the stormy muck inside. Leon doesn't trust him. Leon's _right_ not to trust him. The worst crime a dragon can commit is the betrayal of trust given, and he came so close, _so close,_ to tossing Leon aside like he meant nothing to him. And for what reason? His jealousy, his anger? His fear that Leon would steal Piers all for himself?

All Leon wants is to keep Piers safe! That's never changed! Safe from anything that might seek to hurt him, Raihan remembers that damned pledge as Leon wore that damned stupid-looking cape. It branded itself into his memory as something that brought him satisfaction and pleasure, that his beloved had someone so devoted to him, as he deserved, and comes ringing back in his ears louder than even the roaring wind.

_"I'm proud to devote myself to your well-being. For you, Piers... I'd battle my way through blood and hellfire just to see you safe from harm."_

Harm, all harm, any harm, anything the knight perceives as harmful is something to protect Piers from.

Harmful like—

Himself?

The matebond...? Piers told their sunbeam all about it, and everything Piers knows is what Raihan taught him. There's nothing Leon knows outside of Piers' own told feelings, Piers, who must have already had plans to reject him for Leon to be able to guide Piers towards saying no, and for Leon to throw himself forth to defend Piers and his decision from harm.

Was it true? Was Raihan—was he really about to hurt his beloved back there? With his snarling and ranting and insisting that everything Piers felt and wanted was wrong?

Piers rejected him, simple as that, and—

_if it's_

_not_

_Leon's_

_fault_

_then—_

_It may very well be yours._

Raihan's wings lock up mid-air as his body convulses, unable to hold himself together any longer. He tumbles against the far side of the low mountain and scrapes claws over its face that leave deeper and deeper gouges the larger they grow. Bones creak, muscles stretch and tear and stitch back together around re-jointed limbs. A ragged cry tears out of his lengthening throat and he writhes on the rocks. He has no plan, no design in mind as he changes. He's just a wretched, worthless monster, whose last words at both his loves were hateful and antagonistic and ignorant.

Every vertebrae in his spine crackles and enlarges and he twists around the growing coils. His proud wings wither away and the stigma in his shoulder gleefully spreads and numbly sinks into its expanded territory. He idly wonders, as his hands crack and split, if that woman can sense him transforming. This thing lets her track him, she said. If she were to break her promise and travel up here, all she'd see is the hideous beast she considered him all along.

When it's over, Raihan only has eyes for someplace hidden to tuck his shuddering self.

A long, thorny tail drags along stone and dirt as he crawls along boulders that seem so small now, scaled belly scraping like a lowly snake's. A shallow carve into the back of a hidden, hollow clearing will have to do. He drags his heavy body into as tight a pile as he can with the hopes to shut out the world.

All around, the air buzzes, heavy wind picking up around him. The sky is offering its sympathies, but he doesn't want it. There's no comfort any storm could bring right now. Not when Piers hates thunder... Then again, Leon really is there to comfort him.

Raihan whimpers and flinches into himself. Right, how could he forget. Leon and Piers, finally together. Both in love and finally aware of it. Not only did they have secret conversations about mateship, they also talked about their feelings somewhere along the way, unified their commitment to each other, and didn't see fit to tell him. Piers always tells him everything, though...

_Except that he wanted to reject you as a mate. And that he and Leon confessed to each other._

Why keep that of all things a secret? Piers would never keep secrets from him without reason, and Raihan would have been ecstatic to hear about their development had it come first.

_And that's exactly why he kept it to himself. Their union wouldn't be good news any longer had it come entwined with rejected mateship. Piers knew exactly what he was doing by keeping secrets._

Their relationship has always been one of honesty, with a few natural obstacles here and there... Piers is naturally secretive, and needs prodding and reminding sometimes because he's prone to paranoia and overthinking, but always comes clean in the end.

A low whine hisses through his multiplied teeth. Piers did come clean, didn't he. By telling him _no._

Too many things to hurt over. All are his fault and his failings.

Raihan whines and squints miserably down the length of whatever snout his subconscious shaped into being. Always takes a bit for a new face's protrusions to fade into peripheral. He's gotten so used to being blind to his human nose that this new muzzle feels like it's blocking half his sight. Might as well be blind, when his eyes are so useless that he couldn't see what was right in front of his face.

He has until tomorrow to fetch the sword. For now, he's done. Empty, worn, he can't take anything else. He wants to dig into the earth and bury himself in this mountain and think and feel nothing for as long as possible. A single day isn't enough, but it's what he has to work with and he'll take this miserable crumb of respite ( _you ran away, you coward **you coward**_ ).

Heart a mess of shards and bruises, Raihan curls up tighter against the ground and does his best to feel nothing at all.

\- - -

Raihan's only cognizant of time passing when the warm rays of the setting sun slip into his hiding spot. The wyrm coils tighter, avoiding the warmth. If only the stigma still steeping in his shoulder could spread to his whole body. Then he wouldn't have to feel a thing. Painless and numb sounds like a privilege.

Footsteps approach. Gaits he recognizes. Raihan cracks his eyes open and peers through the slits, and before long, a violet head pops over a distant rock, dark in silhouette to the setting sun behind him. The man hauls himself up gracefully and scans the area, and Raihan notices the scabbard at his hip, gleaming hilt seeming to mock him. After spotting nothing, Leon turns and kneels and reaches down, and up arrives Piers, effortlessly lifted over the obstacle. Their hands separate as soon as Piers is stable, and Raihan hates that he paid such close attention to such an inconsequential detail.

There's only one reason they could be up here. They came looking for him. Why? What has he done that merits any of their concern?

Perhaps they came for safety; not knowing the sorceress promised to stay put, the safest place they can be is with their so-called guardian.

Both men are sweaty and tired from ascending the mountain on a hot summer's evening. Leon bears the weariness better, breath even while Piers looks much more ragged, but that's all the knight has going for him. On high alert, Leon looks ready for the slightest thing to jump out at him, hand hovering over his sword and glancing about the mountain, while Piers does a single slow scan and stops once he faces the exact spot Raihan's wedged himself. He's grateful for the backlight that prevents him from making out Piers' expression.

No use hiding anymore, if Piers has spotted him.

"How'd you find me," he growls. That's all his voice is now. A guttural, monstrous sound, filtered through a mouth more suited to ripping flesh and grinding bones than refined speech.

Leon jolts and whirls to look for him, hand on the hilt of his sword and Raihan can't bring himself to mind. Lit by the sunset from behind, Piers takes a step closer to this dark corner, gaze even, unfrightened, steps measured and calm. His legs are weak, Raihan notices. From the walk, the hike. He hopes Leon helped carry the skinny thing up the mountain, at least part of the way, while Raihan was absent to care for his m— ...for Piers. Care for Piers...

"I know you. Know where you like to go when you're upset." Piers takes a deep breath, and sighs. "Don't need a bond for that."

He flinches and curls his body into a tighter knot against the ground. Piers sweeps his sticky bangs aside and glances around the area.

"Are ya alone?"

Raihan nods, chin scraping against one of the spines jutting from his body.

"Thought so. It's alright, Lee, ye can relax. She ain't here. Just us."

Piers kneels—half a collapse, on those spindly legs—and sits on his heels, observing him. Leon hardly relaxes, merely taking his hand off the hilt, and keeps his distance. As he should. Raihan doesn't deserve a mote of Leon's trust.

"You really gave me a fright, love, takin' off like that. When Leon said you were facin' someone he knew to be powerful, I worried for you. I worried for him, too. Don't think I need t' say why."

Guilt rakes through his throat and chokes him. Piers shuffles closer and Raihan presses himself as hard as he can against the shallow hollow of rock.

"Why'd you fly away from us? What 'appened back there, Rai? ...Somethin' ya overheard?"

Raihan digs his talons into the ground and twists his neck against his wingless body to hide, not caring that it's cowardly, or that he looks weak and pathetic and ugly in this messy body full of spines and spikes and drab, mottled colors for blending in with the dirt and shadowed rock. He's a deplorable wyrm, pitiful, wounded creature—

"Rai!" Piers gasps. "Oh, you're hurt!"

His eyes fly open and he unravels enough to hiss, "Don't touch it!"

Piers' hands freeze over his blackened shoulder. Cool eyes narrow and a fine jaw sets, and hands that would be cold anywhere else brush over the stigma unfelt. Raihan bares his teeth and growls like the wounded beast he is. Undeterred, Piers strokes over the deep stain.

"I'll touch as I please when my partner's injured. This is magic, ain't it... Don't worry, it can't do a thing to me, I just want to get a look."

That's right... Still, he doesn't deserve his lover's hands on him. Can't even feel them there, anyways.

"It won't kill me. Doesn't even hurt," he mutters, clumsily swinging his large head away.

Small fingers stroke around the edge of the mark, dipping in and out of sensation and making him shiver.

"That's a lie. Look at this, there's a gash, of course it's hurtin' ya. Oh, Rai, what happened with her?"

Oh. The cut. He forgot it was there thanks to the stigma's anesthetic effect. It no doubt looks awful after transforming while the wound was still open. It's scabbed over anyways, since he held still for so long.

He doesn't want to reveal that he clawed himself open, out of fear for what the sorceress put inside him. Instead of answering, he rests his chin upon the ground, aimed so he can't see either of them.

"I'm sorry, Rai," Piers murmurs.

He picks his head up with a confused grimace. "For what?"

Piers' expression twists with empathy and compassion both.

"This is... It's my fault, that ya went to confront someone in such a bad state o' mind. I set ya up for a terrible time," he weakly says. "I'm sorry for makin' this so hard for ya. I never wanted it to be like this."

Piers is the last person who needs to apologize...

"Piers... this isn't your fault. That witch, she was too fast for me. Couldn't do a thing to stop it," he shamefully admits. "Could probably try to burn it out myself, but..."

But then she'd get suspicious. She'd have reason to break her word and breach deeper into his territory to personally investigate. She'd find the house, find evidence that Leon is alive. This leash has to stay. Sit pretty in this magical cage as proof that he's obedient and trustworthy.

...What kind of bell does that ring? Familiar dread wells up inside him and he shoves it away.

"But what?"

"But I can't get rid of it. I just can't. I- I've got it handled, though. Don't worry about me."

Piers reaches for his head, flecks of dried blood stuck to his fingertips. "How can I not worry about you?"

"I don't want you to!" he hisses and rears his head back, forked tongue slipping through the bars of his new teeth. "Don't spend your worry on me. This is what I'm meant to go through. I protect what's mine. No matter what it takes, I..."

"It's alright, Rai, it's alright. I know you will, you've always kept me safe. You'd never lead us to harm." Piers casts a glance over his shoulder. "Never."

Raihan squirms in place, the chafe of his scales and spines rough against the mountain and against himself. Should he confess? Tell Piers his faith is misplaced...? What he doesn't know won't hurt him, and that's what this is all about, not hurting each other. Loose stones rasp beneath his tensing body as he shudders and retreats further into himself. The spines jutting from his scales rattle and lengthen. Sharper, _sharper. Stay away. Don't come near me. I'll hurt you_ , they say.

His arm twitches when Piers strokes down the bumpy scales of his arm, rubbing bits of dried blood away.

"Leon?" Piers calls without looking. "Can we... have a moment alone? Please?"

"Piers, I don't think that's—"

"Lee, please."

"...Alright. But one call, and I'll be here for you."

Still so protective...

The knight backs up a few steps, searching for someplace to stick himself that counts as giving privacy. There's no chance Leon won't overhear everything, but Raihan can't bring himself to care. Let him listen. Let there be no secrets.

Once Leon is out of sight, Piers sighs, licks his finger, and rubs another sticky patch of dragonblood clean. Grooming him... Such a thing should make him happy, but there's no room inside him for appreciation to be felt.

"You know... On the hike up, I had some time to think. About how ya'd never hurt me, in conjunction with... everything ya said back there at home. About mateship. And our relationship. I've given it a lot of thought, and seein' ya like this..." Piers' touch vanishes over the black mark, and his voice drops soft. "I've made my decision."

As if that doesn't serve to stoke fresh panic. Something terrible is coming, he can feel it, and every dark thought that plagued him from today comes swarming back to cover his brain.

"W-What do you mean? Decision with what?"

"I'm thinkin' now, if... if it'll help ya stay safer, and feel stronger, and be able to live yer life more... passionately, happily, then... m-maybe I should get over my stupid fears and... say yes to it. Bein' your mate," Piers whispers.

Raihan's lungs stall. Unseen, a hard body slumps against rock and he swears he almost hears a pained _"No..."_ Could have imagined it. Hard to hear much of anything at all outside the blow Piers just laid to his heart, soul, and senses.

"I was so scared a' hurtin' ya, Rai, that's why I held off on talkin' about it, but after seein' what it did to you, what it led to, I realized I couldn' take it." Piers' voice cracks, like he's about to cry, and Raihan instinctively inches closer, wanting to help his beloved feel better. "I'd ra-rather see you happy 'n well than let meself be terrified o' things I know ya'd never intend to do to me. I- I need to be braver, for _you._ You're the one riskin' your life for us, facin' danger for our sakes, and I love you more than anythin', Rai, so the least I can do is... m-match your devotion and... and..."

The first tear falls, and Raihan catches it. It shines on the back of his monstrous hand, scaled and shaped more like an owl's foot than any human appendage and dwarfing his precious treasure's face. A long curved talon lifts and brushes up his lover's cheek flushed with distress. Piers chokes and clutches at the talon, pressing his face against the smooth hard surface and rubbing like it's as comforting as down.

Piers really doesn't see him as one who could ever hurt him, and that knowledge relaxes a tightly wound segment of his heart. Piers is willing to overcome his misgivings about mateship for Raihan's sake. Face his fear. Accept the bite and attempted mark and the bond that'll tie him to Raihan for the rest of both their lives.

Those words should make him happy—he's finally getting what he wants, a willing partner ready to take the next step with him—but a _yes_ spoken through tears, consent despite fear, heralds as much joy as a dragon egg smashed against the ground. All it does is press him flat with a whimper as Piers hangs onto a beastly claw like it's the only thing keeping him from getting snatched away by forces unseen.

The realization comes knocking down, tumbling over him with all the careless damage done by a dislodged landslide. He was caught inside one, once, anoxic mud and rock swamping and crushing him from all sides until he thought he'd die from suffocation if his lungs weren't simply crushed first. This feels similar, a pressure all around that makes it hard to breathe while a tiny crack of clarity tells him which way is up.

Raihan doesn't want this anymore.

Not if the prospect of it makes Piers feel this way. He'd rather his partner feel comfortable and secure with what they already have than suppress him in any way by pushing things a step further. This whole time he thought Piers _would_ be happy with the matebond, and instead, it's making him cry. Raihan gets the sense that Piers would cry through the bonding, cry for the loss of what they had before as his dragon takes what he wants with teeth sunk into shivering flesh. He would suffer—and Raihan would be the cause behind all that suffering. Inflictor of pain.

_And he loves you enough to put himself through that anyways._

A groan lurches through the clamped bars of Raihan's chest, stuttering and creaking like strained timbers.

All the times he pressed and hinted, all the times he nibbled Piers' neck, teasing about what he might place there. The allusions to a future bound by magic and love. The performative wistfulness every time he mentioned it, to ensure Piers never forgot what he was so looking forward to.

He wants to curl up into a wretched little ball and disappear. This whole time, what he wanted, what he nudged for endlessly, was something that would only make his beloved miserable. What kind of partner is he? To daydream about hurting his loved one? He's always been so good at picking up on Piers' discomfort, but this particular thing always slipped under his awareness. Piers protected this insecurity fiercely, never once letting Raihan know that talk of mateship and bonding gave him such anxiety, because he knew how much happiness it brought him.

That mindfulness was almost cruel. He'd rather have known early on than let his hopes be built up so high, only to be toppled down and shatter against the cold, hard ground.

...No, he shouldn't say that. He knows his arrogant self wouldn't have listened if Piers told him earlier. And he knows the reason Piers guarded his true feelings was because Piers knew how much they would hurt. And they did hurt. But who cares about how much the rejection tore him up inside when bottling up feelings for so long caused such damage to his beloved?

Piers sniffs, loosening a hand from the talon to wipe at his tears. His lashes are wet, glistening even in the growing darkness as the sun sinks lower and lower behind him, cheeks splotchy and red. Always the pretty crier, his songbird is...

Carefully, as if handling a baby bird, Raihan nudges a talon—not the one Piers clings to—so that its curve glides along Piers' other cheek. The simple touch works wonders, and Raihan's chest pangs seeing how his treasure settles with closed eyes and a hiccup.

There's only one thing he can do. It's the right choice, he knows. Voicing it will kill the ideal future he staked so much thought and energy and emotion into, wipe it from potential existence, but after seeing his partner cry, all those fantasies and dreams and what-ifs with Piers as a future mate are tarnished and rotten. Built upon a premise of hurting his loved one, and therefore, only worth tearing down.

"Piers, you don't have to force yourself," he murmurs.

To his surprise, Piers' eyes snap open, red-rimmed and defiant.

"I c-can and I will. I'll do anyth-thin' if it's for you. I'll be your mate." Piers lets go of him and tugs the collar of his shirt wide open, grasping the locket and pulling the delicate chain all the way off. "I kn-know ya wanna mark me right here."

Hand trembling, Piers taps at the spot of bare, silken flesh that Raihan's nuzzled and licked and nipped at so many times, a fresh tear rolling down his face.

"Do it. Just a bite, yeah? I- I'll be yours. Forever."

"Don't!" He recoils from the presentation, fangs bared. "What happened to all the reasons you said no? I'm giving you an out!"

"I'll learn to like it," Piers hiccups. "I will."

"No!" That's not what he wants at all! "Piers, I'm saying that you don't..."

Out with it. Say it. Sever the cord of one final hope, it's what's best for Piers, just give it up already! _You can't have everything you want!_

"You don't have to be my mate!" Not good enough. Raihan heaves his next breath, gathering momentum. "No, I... I don't want you as my mate. Not anymore, not after knowing it'll hurt you! You're free of it!"

Piers is free. Was always meant to be free. No kings, no masters, no locked doors or leashes. Free as a dragon, and free from his partner's stubbornness and ignorance and stupid, stupid presumptuous pride.

A tormented growl, shot through with frustration and hatred for himself, carries his feelings better than words ever could.

"Piers, I... I won't ask it of you ever again. It's over."

A cold hand rests over his tense paw, and he realizes he's pierced clean through the earth. A tilled handful. He loosens his grips immediately, and watches as dry soil crumbles soft through his claws into neat little mounds.

"Raihan... _mo gràdh,_ are you sure?" The endearment rolls sweet and shaky off Piers' tongue. In his other hand, the locket is clenched, silvery chain glinting like fine magic over pale knuckles.

The dragon reaches for it. His lengthy body draws up behind him for leverage, coiled beneath so he can poise as a cobra would. Two claw-tips hook into the chain, and Piers lets him take it, sitting perfectly still as Raihan slithers behind. He casts a large shadow thanks to the setting sun, and he stares at his silhouette against the rock face he spent hours crammed against. A chaotic mantle of thorns runs from his skull to his neck, two large and twisted horns swerving forward like an ox. A defensive, protective form, that overcompensates for the weak creature within.

Piers is completely enveloped in his shadow. Unafraid, as always, though he still shakes and shivers... Raihan sighs, and lowers the necklace until the silver charm dangles in front of Piers' face.

"I'm sure."

His ear twitches when a heavy body slides down rock and thuds against the ground out of sight. He won't think on it.

Raihan spreads the delicate chain within his claws, intensely mindful of how easy it would be to break, and places it around Piers' head as if placing a crown back where it belongs. The silver seems to glimmer even in the depths of the dragon's shadow, and he can't stop himself from hooking a talon into the dense braid down Piers' back and easing it free of the chain, as carefully as one would thread a needle, and placing it back with a final caress over that pale, vulnerable nape to help the necklace settle to where it naturally rests.

There...

He doesn't move from behind his partner, and neither does Piers, before his. Neither speak, either. There just isn't much to say.

Raihan tilts his head back to the sky. Twilight advances, the balminess of day cooling slowly but surely. If they were down the mountain, amidst the grassy hills and dense forest, the land would be alight with fireflies, the air ridged with overlapping cricket song. Up here, there's nothing. Just the cold, barren side of what barely passes for a mountain.

The stars have lit above, and Raihan's back has cooled considerably, by the time Piers speaks again.

"I really woulda let ya bite me."

"I know." The dragon arcs his neck down, until the whiskers on the end of his snout are tickled by the flyaway hairs on the little one's head. "And you'll never have to let me do anything like that again."

His whiskers twitch when the head beneath them lifts, and soon he's breathing in the familiar scent of his partner, hair pressed willingly against his nose. This close, he can smell the weight of the sheer amount of stress he put Piers through. Cloying, heady stress, sharp fear, the salt of dried tears...

The scent of Leon, so entwined with Piers' that Raihan's hindbrain has almost accepted it as a vital component of his partner's.

"Hey..."

"Mm?"

"Earlier today..." His throat rolls in a swallow. He needs to know this. "You said that Leon helped you make the decision to not be my mate. If Leon were never there for you to talk to him—" _don't think about it don't think about how you almost made that come true—_ "would you still have said no?"

Piers sighs, quiet and weary. "Aye. I'd a' turned ya down all the same, eventually. Lee only helped me realize sooner, what was best for me."

Oh... So his fears of manipulation were unfounded all along. Piers had thoughts of saying no the whole time. Leon just gave the push necessary for everything to come out in the open.

That's worth gratitude, isn't it. Thanks to Leon, Piers didn't keep his fear under continued lock and key where it would eat and eat and eat at him, and Raihan didn't continue fantasizing about a future that would never come to be. Merciful, that.

The tip of his tail flicks somewhere amidst the tangle of his body. Doesn't that make his near-backstab worse? Leon only did exactly what Raihan wanted him to all along, since the very beginning. Protect Piers. Make him happy. No crime was committed outside of Raihan's own latching onto whatever he could place blame upon.

There won't be respite from this guilt anytime soon. He acted like a selfish, self-absorbed hatchling who threw a tantrum because he didn't get what he wanted. Raised his voice at the people he loves...

He rests his body down, head and neck coiled in a single loop around his lover. Piers immediately crawls and fusses over the festering stigma, and the stench of freshly leaking blood makes his nose wrinkle. He didn't even notice that the wound opened back up, nor does he care. There's other things to worry about than the state of a dragon's body.

"Leon...?" he calls.

No immediate response. He glances inside his coil at Piers, who's already pulling his shirt off. The locket bounces against his narrow chest and Raihan turns away from the still-healing scratches and yellowed bruises from their last round of rough lovemaking.

"Leon, I know you're still there. We're done talking."

A light shuffle pricks his ears, and Leon rounds a slanted boulder, posture stiff and shoulders square, yet carrying an air of ragged relief. He stops, and doesn't come any closer than that.

"Where's Piers."

"Right here, love." Piers sticks a bare arm up so it's visible over the draconic barrier wrapped around him.

Leon stares, visibly disconcerted, and Raihan's memory helpfully supplies the last line he heard the knight say before he took off flying: Leon doesn't know if he can trust him anymore.

Leon doesn't know just how correct he is to not.

The maintained distance between them is yet another sting, but after the thousand cuts Raihan's sustained today, he takes this one with a tired acceptance. Besides, their last face to face interaction ended with Raihan telling him to shut the fuck up and wait to be dealt with. Distance deserved.

While Piers presses the light fabric over his wound so it's at least not exposed to the open air, Raihan quietly waits for a response. An accusation, insult, anything.

"So you met Oleana," Leon evenly states.

Raihan instinctively curls tighter around Piers, not missing how Leon's hands tighten at his sides. "Never got her name. But yeah. Met her, alright..."

"She was looking for me."

It's not a question.

He can no longer look his friend—if he still has the right to call Leon that—in the eye. He nods and scratches a meaningless swirl into the dirt with his uninjured arm.

"Sure was."

Leon tracks the drag of talon and shifts his weight. "Is she gone?"

A sense of failure looms high over his head at the reminder. He hasn't done his job fully yet. The threat to his treasures still exists, out there, on his land, his domain, while he sat around feeling sorry for himself. Some guardian he is... but he can't allow any sense of false security at a time like this.

"No. She's still here."

Leon's composure cracks. An unstable sigh pushes out of that broad chest, and Leon tangles his fingers through his bangs and grips them tight. "But—why are you here if she isn't gone? She could be on her way! And thanks to that— _thing_ she put onto you, I can't feel her coming unless she chooses to use louder magic!"

"She isn't moving," he's quick to clarify, lip curling at the very idea. "She's down there, near my perimeter. Waiting for me to come back."

"What?" Piers asks, staggering to his feet and grabbing at a horn for attention. "What's she want you for? You told her to piss off, didn' ya?"

"I tried! But she... I didn't know who she was at first!" The account comes flooding. "When she said she wanted me to give up my human, I thought she was talking about you, Piers, so of course I told her I'd never let her take what's mine! But then I learned that she was talking about Leon the whole time when she revealed where she came from, who she worked for. She knew—she _thought_ I was keeping Leon here, and I stupidly confirmed I really did have a human. Made my whole story about killing the knight weak, she barely believed me."

"Fuck," Piers curses under his breath. "Why didn' ya kill her then?"

"Because! If she dies, more will come. If she lives, and makes it back, she can tell Rose to give up the search because there's nothing to search for. She needs solid proof of his death before she'll go away."

"Proof of death," Piers mutters. "Can't we give her the bones that are still lyin' around somewhere in the fields?"

"That wouldn't work, Oleana would know they aren't mine."

"Damn. What about—lock of hair?"

"Why would I keep hair from a random knight I slaughtered? She wants the sword, Piers! She knows I have it and that's what she wants. Something to take back to her king, I suppose..."

Leon grasps the belt of his scabbard and backs up a step, defensive, which is... about the reaction Raihan expected. He doesn't have the energy to deal with yet another conflict...

"Are you sure there's nothing else she'd accept?"

"Other than her living prince, no," Raihan drops. "I have until tomorrow to give it to her."

Leon backs up another step.

"But... Without my sword, I can't..."

Raihan narrows his eyes. "Can't what."

Stand up to monsters? Make heart-injured dragons keep their distance?

"I can't defend those I care about. This life I have. I- I need it with me."

The dragon holds his tongue on how Leon was plenty ready to throw down without it back at the cottage.

"It's what she asked for, Leon. I can't change that."

A tug on one of the spines covering his neck beckons him to move, and he allows his head to slide back, opening up his body so Piers can slip loose. A bloody cloth is passed to him and he huffs through his nose, pinching it between two claws and pressing it against his shoulder with a random estimation of the appropriate pressure.

"Lee, it's alright." Piers steps to him, hands placating. "Think of it this way..."

Raihan can't help but scrutinize every motion as they talk. Every graze, every brush, every minor shift closer and closer until they're nearly chest to chest. Only a dull pang echoes in Raihan's chest watching them touch. In a way, he's glad that Piers isn't keeping a distance from Leon. Shows that his darling isn't afraid of expressing affection to another while in front of his partner. Such a blatant display of trust...

Meanwhile, Leon keeps glancing at him over Piers' shoulder, like trust is the last thing he feels while the dragon's lover takes his hand and holds it while putting his bare back to the beast himself. Tch. Scared that the big bad monster will lash out again?

Subconsciously, as always, Raihan's tail curls. The spines rattle against rock far louder than he's used to and Leon goes stiff near instantly, taking a swift step back with wide eyes and open arms as if he dropped something, and Raihan's ears flatten against his skull when it sinks in that fuck, his tired sarcasm was spot on.

Leon really is scared of what he'll do. Scared that touching Piers might be some kind of crime worth punishing.

Throat clenching with raw regret, Raihan stills himself down to the tip of his tail and presses harder against his wound. He never meant to be an obstacle to their love, up until he thought Leon was the one getting in _his_ way. Now he knows that isn't true, so of course he wants them to be happy together, just as he did before.

Watching Leon hold himself away while Piers tries to bridge the gap certainly makes him feel like shit. Just another thing he fucked up that's entirely, undeniably his fault. He's the one who yelled, who postured and growled like he wanted to fucking attack the man before him for only doing his duty as Piers' knight.

Piers cups Leon's cheek and says something soft, pulling the taller man's attention away from Raihan and back down to conversation. Leon doesn't pull away this time, but doesn't touch back, either. Just steals another shifty glance over a pale shoulder, and Raihan realizes now that it isn't _wary,_ it's _nervous._ If only he didn't get so angry during their fight back at home... Does Leon think he's hated?

Raihan closes his eyes to stop a whimper from escaping. He wants to speak up, reassure his sunbeam that he's still loved, but there are more delicate problems at play, like Leon's continued safety. That matters more than inopportune heart-to-hearts. Lives and security first, feelings later.

As the minutes go by, the moon rises and bathes the mountain in pale light. At last, Piers' voice takes on a finalized tone. Some kind of conclusion has been reached. Piers steps back and Raihan steals a look at Leon's face.

"Alright. I'll do it." Leon rests a hand on the rose-like hilt, eyes shut, voice as hard and flat as the blade. "If giving it up will protect you from her, then it will have served its purpose."

The clean sound of a blade unsheathing scrapes his hearing. Not sword and scabbard both? Whatever makes it less convenient for that witch to carry back is fine by him.

Leon holds it out towards him, and the sight of the tip aimed straight at him only brings another dull pulse of _you deserve it._

He uncoils his body, brings himself only as close as necessary, and reaches for the blade lit silver by the moon. Neither flinch as long-taloned digits close around bare steel. Leon's hand doesn't linger as the hand-off completes, nor does the disarmed knight look him in the eye.

Weapon in hand, Raihan crawls to the nearest precipice and gauges the wind. At this height, and this distance, a glide with minimal flapping will suffice. No need for powerful flight muscles, but he should streamline this body and ditch all the spines or the drag will tire him.

The dragon's body stiffens and writhes as two large wings burst into being. They creak as they unfurl, joints snapping as he gives them their first experimental stretch, and he waits no longer than that before he launches himself, sword clutched tight in the paw of his uninjured arm.

He doesn't think during the flight. Doesn't feel. The stigma in his shoulder throbs as he clumsily lands in front of the sorceress, shaking the ground and hardly looking her in the eye as he flings the weapon at her feet. Painted lips smile, a pale hand lifts, and the darkness embedded into his neck leeches free, twisting and fleeing back into its master's sleeve and leaving only an oozing wound behind that surges with pain no longer smothered by magic.

She takes the sword. Inspects the hilt. Nods. Condescends her gratitude for the opportunity to leave the palace, and leaves, with a lingering glance cast behind her at the monstrous form he returned to her in. He doesn't bother hiding his malice, long snout wrinkled to bare every fang and whiskers quivering from the inaudible vibrations of the growl lurking in his chest.

Raihan doesn't move until he senses she's left his territory entirely, and one blink later he registers the mountain looming low before him. In the air, his body feels heavy in a way that has nothing to do with his increased body mass. He's tired, so tired, and his landing is graceless, long body scraping the stone and legs staggering to a stop.

Piers is quick to greet him, pushing to his feet and dashing forth, and asks, after a stroke over his muzzle, if she's gone.

He notes how Leon doesn't relax even as he nods and confirms.

"She left."

"Took that mark offa ya too, thank the gods." Piers steps around to inspect his shoulder, and Raihan gives it a glance too. It throbs and aches, which is his own fault, for gouging himself in the first place. "Shite still looks nasty... Let's fly home, get ya patched up proper."

Raihan swings his head away. Hah. _Home._ As if 'home' is safe now that an agent of Rose knows the location of the last place Leon was sighted. Oleana may be out of his territory, but for all he knows she's lingering just outside of it, waiting for some sign or reason to come barging back in and catch them all in the middle of their deception...

He'd much rather be out here, under the sky, not stuck under any roof or contained within any walls. He doesn't think he has the mental fortitude to transform back into something human-like anytime soon, either. 'Home' simply won't fit this form.

"I don't need medicine, remember? I can just..."

Raihan concentrates on his shoulder. Repair is just a form of construction, and it's _his_ body to manipulate as he pleases. The stigma blocked him from healing it the last time he transformed, but now that it's gone, he can reform his shoulder muscles, connect all the fibers and vessels back together again and seal skin and scales as if nothing was ever wrong.

His own voice chides him. _You don't get to pretend that you can erase this set of mistakes._

...He allows a scar to remain.

Piers eyes the rough patch job with a frown, but doesn't question it.

"Guess that'll do it... Shouldn't we still head back?"

Raihan lowers his head. "I..."

Piers picks up on his sentiment without him needing to say any useful words, and his expression softens, hand lifting to give another stroke down Raihan's nose.

"Well, it is a lovely night. It'll be safer to hold the high ground up here, just in case. Just for the night."

"Yeah," he agrees, nodding in relief. "I can... I can better protect you both from up here."

"What're ye waitin' for then? Wouldn't be the first time we camped beneath the stars." Piers extends a hand. "We all need the rest."

Raihan nods again, and hauls his serpentine body to the most comfortable-looking spot in the stony clearing. He and Piers have settled like this plenty of times before, him lying watchful on the ground while Piers leans against his warm side, and tonight is no different.

Almost no different.

Leon hovers at the edge of the scene, and Raihan knows now that it's not out of distaste for being close to him, but a complete lack of confidence as to whether he's wanted close at all.

"Aren't ya gonna sit with us, Lee?" Piers calls, but doesn't directly beckon.

Raihan busies himself with brushing various sharp stones away and adjusting his wings over his back.

"...I'd rather help keep watch."

Practical. But still a blow, and Raihan's ears press back.

"Smart," he tries to compliment with a mutter aimed at his paws.

Leon doesn't respond. Only finds a suitable boulder to clamber upon, empty scabbard clacking against the rock as he settles facing the surrounding land, arms crossed over his chest.

"Well... if ya wanna join us, we're right here," Piers says, to no acknowledgement.

After a few minutes of the stiffest atmosphere possible, Raihan whispers as quietly as he can.

"You can go lie with him, if you want."

Piers sighs, and turns his head against the scales of Raihan's side. A smile? Why? Small and almost sad, it tugs at Raihan's sympathies before his partner has said a word.

"I can't be two places at once. Right now, _leannan,_ I think he needs the space, and I know you need the closeness."

His throat tightens. Piers is right. So he doesn't press, and instead maneuvers his long neck and head into something that passes as comfortable while Piers settles against his side.

Summer it might be, but up here, there isn't much to shelter from the night's breeze once it starts, and Raihan picks his head up the moment the first shiver rattles against his side. Piers gave up his shirt to staunch his shoulder wound, and his bare skin gives up heat as easily as a duck's wing sheds water. He can't put a shirt soiled with dragonblood back on, wherever the thing lies right now.

Raihan unfurls a wing and shudders, not from any chill, but from the ripple of magic that feathers the large limb with glossy midnight blue. Something fluffy and warm and held open for his beloved. Piers crawls beneath without hesitation and buries himself within the down, his content sigh a small, ticklish relief as it folds around him.

Leon watches, and Raihan catches eye contact. For a suspended moment, they watch each other, the knight's expression unreadable under the cold light of the moon. Leon breaks the connection first, and turns to face away once more. He doesn't budge from that spot, and Raihan doesn't have the guts to invite him closer.

Doesn't have the energy, either, to think about or deal with the towering stack of failures and losses that Leon helps represent.

The man he loves more than anything in this world will never be bonded to him. Acceptance, he's reached, but he can't get over it so easily. It feels silly, but he needs time to mourn what will never come to pass.

The one he swore to protect, who he loves all the same, who has no idea how close Raihan came to stabbing him in the back, sits apart from them, not far, but the distance might as well be that of the world from the sun. Still anxious about how the dragon feels about him, not knowing if he's still wanted, the source behind that anxiety unable to muster the energy to have the necessary conversation.

Lurking within the stack of failures is a new face. The enemy he was powerless to drive away using his own strength. He had no choice but to dance to her tune and play fetch when she ordered it. His pride and confidence in his ability to protect has all but eroded away.

And then there's himself. There's so much he could say about himself. So many glaring shortcomings were thrust into his face over the course of the day, and they've already drilled themselves deep, brought him low to the ground where he belongs.

A lot happened today, and... he'll leave it at that. A lot happened. Too much to address and deal with for now. He's tired, and needs time to rest, and cope, and mourn, and pull himself together enough to help his treasures feel safe and cared for like he should have been doing this whole time instead of parade around with his head up his arse like he knew what was best for everyone.

The most he allows himself is a long, slow sigh through his nose, that pushes dust and scatters bits of sand. Piers nestles closer within his wing and he mindlessly tucks it closer.

He has no intention of sleeping when he can't confirm whether Oleana has truly left, but after the chaos of the day, merely being able to lie down with his loved ones nearby, whether it's close-close or close-far, grants the illusion of peace enough to get some rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh raihan... you've had a long day. you've all had a very long day.
> 
> Next chapter: things get better. (it's a start.)


End file.
